Actions, Consequences and Responsibility
by Richefic
Summary: After the events in Richie's Punishment, Richie breaks one of the house rules but Mac feels like he's the one getting punished! Now complete.
1. Default Chapter

AN- OK, so I admit it. I didn't feel like I was quite finished with Richie's punishment and I had some ideas about what might happen if Richie broke one of the rules, but no real direction until Southern Chickie and I got to talking about it and all at once things fell into place. So, thanks for the input SC! I know, I said I wasn't gonna write it yet, but its been bugging me all day!

This is set just after Richie's Birthday. Before they move to France in Rite of Passage.

***

Richie pushed his bike quietly into the alley. Glancing up at the windows, he saw, with no small measure of relief that all the windows were dark. Maybe, the patron saint of terminally stupid teenagers had smiled on him and the couple had gone to bed early and not noticed that he was almost four hours past curfew.

Yeah, right.

But at least he wouldn't have to endure any lectures until he'd had a few hours sleep.

Still, better not to take any chances.

Using all of his skills, Richie moved silently through the apartment, slipping into his bedroom, he closed the door behind him and leant back against it, to expel an audible sigh of relief.

Only then did he turn on the light.

And jumped two feet in the air, at the sight of Tessa sleeping on his bed.

Even as she stirred, Richie's panic increased, he could only think of one reason that Tessa was sleeping on his bed.

Mac wasn't there.

And he could only think of one reason that Mac wasn't there at this time in the morning.

"Richie .." Tessa sat up.

"Tess, What happened? Who was it? Did they come here? How long has Mac been gone?" he fired questions at her, without giving her change to answer.

"Richie! Enough!" she protested, still groggy from sleep.

"Sorry, Tess .." Richie apologised. He decided to start with the simplest first. "How long has Mac been gone?"

"About two hours ..," Tessa cocked her head. "That will be him now."

"We hope." Richie edged back from the door, determined to protect Tessa if need be.

It was.

"Mac!" Richie rushed towards him. "Are you OK? Did you get the guy? Are you OK? What am I talking about, of course, you're OK."

"Oh, I'm far from OK." Duncan vowed.

"You are? Did he get you?" Richie worried. He started searching the Immortals for cuts and slashes. "How bad is it?"

"Easy, Rich," Duncan caught both his hands and gently held him in place. "_I'm fine."_

"But you said .." Richie looked at him wide eyed. "I thought the guy had got you .."

"There was no challenge, Richie." Duncan eyed him steadily.

"Jeez Mac, give a guy a heart attack why don't you?" Richie sagged. "You had me worried, there."

"Good." Duncan said flatly.

Richie did a double-take, surely he had mis-heard? "Good?" he choked out. "What's good about me worrying that you might be lying somewhere out there, sliced up into little itty bitty bits?"

"It might help you understand what we have been going through." Duncan glanced meaningfully at the clock.

Richie froze.

In his worry about the Immortal he had completely forgotten about his own, little spot of bother.

"Oh." He managed.

"Oh, indeed," Tessa scolded. "I have been phoning the Hospitals in case you were hurt, do you know this?"

Richie pressed his lips together. He hadn't meant to worry them.

"And, Duncan could not rest, he has been out looking for you." Tessa put her hands on her hips.

Richie looked from one to the other. They did not look pleased.

They also looked tired, and worried, and upset.

He thought about all the arguments and excuses that he could muster. And he couldn't bring himself to use any of them.

"I'm sorry," he began. "I meant to be home on time .."

"Meant to?" Tessa scolded. "This is not good enough."

"Not when you're almost four hours late." Duncan murmured.

"I guess .. I was just having too good a time .." he apologised. 

"You couldn't have looked at your watch?" Duncan nodded at his wrist. 

"Or at least called us, to let us know that you were safe?" Tessa asked.

"I'm sorry." Richie didn't know what else to say. He sighed.

Duncan's nose twitched, and Richie's heart stilled.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Just a couple of beers. It was Gary's birthday." Richie protested.

"It's against the law." Duncan countered.

"Its not like I haven't done it before." Richie tried.

"You really want to go there?" Duncan arched a brow.

Richie swallowed. He wasn't sure he wanted to imagine all the things that the Scot might have done in his lifetime that were presently against the law. He was sure it wasn't pretty.

"I guess not." He shook his head. Only to bring it up sharply again. "But you never said I couldn't drink. It wasn't on the list." He pointed out.

Duncan gave him a long, level stare.

"Alright," Richie caved. "I shoulda known better."

There was a small silence in the room.

Richie hunched his shoulders and looked at his feet. He knew that he had disappointed them. Again. Twice in two weeks wasn't exactly a record for him. Far from it in fact. But the hard part was, this time he genuinely hadn't meant to break the couple's rules. It had just _happened. _Miserably he sank down next to Tessa on his bed.

"You guys are pretty mad at me, huh?" he managed in a small voice..__

"You screwed up Rich." Duncan shook his head.

"We trusted you to keep your part of the bargain and you abused that trust." Tessa put in.

"I didn't mean to." Richie assured her earnestly, feeling close to tears.

"We know you didn't mean to Tough Guy," Duncan's warm hand on his shoulder surprised him. "You just made a few mistakes. Its all part of growing up."

"It is to be expected." Tessa agreed softly, taking his hand. 

"I'm sorry," Richie said, again. "I just didn't think .."

He bit his lip and decided the only thing he could do to win back the couple's approval was to take responsibility for his actions.

"So, what's my punishment, huh?"

"You want us to punish you?" Richie didn't miss the faint surprise in Tessa's voice.

"I deserve it." Richie looked up, but it was Mac's eyes he sought.

Duncan's stern expression didn't waver, but Richie thought he caught a hint of pride in his eyes.

"And what do you think would be a suitable punishment?" he asked.

"Oh Mac, please don't make me choose my own punishment again," Richie begged. "That totally sucked. You guys decide."

Duncan looked over at Tessa,. They had both felt that Richie's attempt to be the worlds most perfect child had been more of an ordeal for the lad than anything they would have inflicted on him.

"And you're OK with that?" Duncan asked carefully.

"Yes." Richie nodded seriously. "You guys have been great .. more than great. I know you won't like .. really hurt me or anything."

Duncan looked over at Tessa and said something in rapid, fluent, French. Her eyes widened and she made some response, obviously seeking clarification, Duncan shrugged and said something that was clearly acceptable, because Tessa nodded.

Richie hoped he wasn't going to like to regret this.

 "Alright," Duncan declared "You've proved that you're not responsible enough to be let out of my sight. You don't get to be out of my sight."

"What?" Richie blinked.

"You heard me," Duncan shrugged. "Wherever I go, you come too. And you don't get to go anywhere without me. Period."

"For how long?" Richie managed.

"Until you prove that you can be responsible." Duncan stated.

"How am I supposed to prove that I can be responsible, if all I am doing is follow you around all day?" Richie argued.

"Because," Duncan reasoned. "You'll be doing as you are told."

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?" Richie demanded. Then another thought occurred to him. "What if you need to go to the bathroom?"

"Richie."

The tone of the Immortal's voice suggested that he was testing the limits of his patience.

"OK. OK." Richie held up his hands. "We'll do it you way."

"You better believe it, Tough Guy." Duncan said with a tight grin as he reached over and pulled Tessa to her feet.

"You're not gonna wake me at the crack of dawn are you?" Richie asked nervously.

"Night Rich." Duncan slipped a hand around his head and pulled him in to kiss the top of his head.

"Tessa?" Richie appealed.

"Good Night Richie." She kissed his cheek. "See you in the morning."

"Guys .." Richie wailed, sinking down on the bed.

"Get to bed Richie," Duncan's voice floated back. "You've got a long day tomorrow."


	2. Anyone for Coffee?

AN- Many thanks for the positive reviews. I think I can promise that this is going to a looong day – for both of them!

***

After four hundred years very few things had the power to genuinely surprise Duncan Macleod.

This was definitely one of them.

"You're awake."

Not only was Richie wide awake, but he was dressed for running, tying the laces on the trainers that Connor had got him for his birthday.

"What did you have planned?" Richie smirked. "A drenching with ice water? Some really loud classic music?"

"I thought about it," Duncan shrugged. "But, I decided being up at 6 a.m. would be torture enough."

"That .. and you are gonna make me go running with you."

"Running isn't torture." Duncan shook his head at the familiar argument. "Its exercise."

"Tortuous exercise," Richie replied. "You know, they've invented the automobile now, right?"

"That's a horseless carriage to you, my lad," Duncan wapped him fondly on the head. "Are you ready to do some warm up stretches?"

"Me? I've been ready for the last fifteen minutes, you're the one who's running late." Richie declared.

Duncan winced.

"Hey, that was a pun, wasn't it?" Richie said excitedly, "Cos you're going running .. and you're late .. I made a pun."

He practically bounced on the bed in glee.

"Alright, calm down," Richie seemed awfully wide wake for someone who had only had a few hours sleep. "And I am not late .." he turned to look at the clock, and realised that he was, indeed, fifteen minutes behind his usual schedule. "How do you know what time I go running? You're always asleep when I .."

He paused.

It wasn't that he was ashamed of the fact that he had got into the habit of coming in to check on the lad each morning. Just to be sure that he was safe and well. But he wasn't sure how Richie would take his cosseting if he knew.

Then he saw that Richie's eyes had gone wide with horrified realisation and a crimson flush was creeping up his face.

"Except, you're not asleep, are you?" Duncan surmised.

"Not always," Richie admitted reluctantly, looking like he wished the floor would swallow him up. "Not .. um .. ever. Actually."

"Oh."

Remembering all the times when he had tucked a stray foot under the covers, or kissed the lad's forehead with a gentle affection that Richie would never allow when he was awake, Duncan felt pretty awkward himself.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

Richie just shrugged, but the shadowed look in his eyes spoke volumes to the Immortal. He had been nervous about what the Immortal was about, creeping into his room in the early hours.

At least at first.

But what about now?

Surely the lad must know that he would never .. 

"Richie .." he began.

Something must have shown in his expression, because Richie started babbling wildly.

"Oh, God, no Mac! I don't .. I mean I would never think .. that's so not who you are .."

He swallowed hard and visibly gathered his courage, clearly deciding that his embarrassment, was a small price to pay for reassuring the Immortal that he didn't think _that._

"I guess, I .. um .. liked that you would .. you know." He managed.

"And you thought that if I realised that you were awake I would stop?" Duncan asked.

Richie gave him a rueful look.

"It sounds pretty stupid when you say it like that."

Actually, it made perfect sense to Duncan. But he wasn't sure how to explain that to Richie without bruising the lad's battered ego eve further.

So, instead he simply leant over and kissed him affectionately on the forehead.

When Richie looked up at him, wide-eyed, he just chuckled.

"Hey, who am I to break with the tradition?"

"You know Mac," Richie stood up. "You are one weird dude."

***

"I said I didn't like running. I never said I couldn't do it." Richie pointed out as they walked the last few blocks home to cool off.

"Its usual for people to like things that they're good at." Duncan observed mildly.

Richie gave him a quick, sideways glance, as if assessing how to answer that. 

"It wasn't exactly a lifestyle choice."

Duncan looked at the suddenly downcast teen and decided that this wasn't a subject that they needed to get into here and now. He could well imagine how Richie had honed his running skills, tying to avoid jail.. or worse.

He deserved better. And Duncan was determined to see that he got it.

"Running from your girlfriends fathers, eh?" he deliberately misunderstood.

"Maac!" Richie laughed.

"Just answer me one question?" Duncan arched a brow.

"I'm gonna regret this, aren't I?" Richie agreed.

"Did you have fun today?"

"Do you mean apart from the getting up in the middle of the night? The garbage lorry that splashed me from head to toe? And the time I got a cramp?"

"Yes." Duncan stared him down.

"Well," Richie flashed him a quick grin. "The scenery was nice."

"You mean the way your eyes popped out of your head each time we saw a pretty girl in shorts, don't you?" Duncan groaned. "Anything else?"

 "And, I kinda liked hearing the stories about what Connor put you through when you first started training with him." Richie admitted.

"And?" Duncan pressed.

"You're gonna make me say it, aren't you?"

"Yep."

"Alright .. it wasn't as bad as I thought it was gonna be."

"See, I told you you'd like it, if you just tried it." Duncan said smugly.

"Hey, I never said that."

"You inferred it."

"Were you ever a lawyer, Mac?"

"Don't change the subject."

"Definitely a lawyer."

***

"Alright, hit the shower, breakfast will be ready in fifteen minutes. OK?" Duncan instructed as they entered the apartment.

Richie gave him an odd look.

"You're gonna let me go take a shower without hovering?"

"That depends, do you promise to wash behind your ears?" Duncan teased.

Richie scowled at him.

"Funny Mac. I thought I wasn't to be allowed out of your sight?"

"I think I can trust you to take a shower." Duncan was already turning towards his own room.

Richie's voice stopped him.

"Aren't you worried that I'm going to make a break for it out of the window, or something?"

For the second time that day, Duncan was genuinely surprised.

And they hadn't even had breakfast yet.

He turned back to give the teenager his full attention.

"Of course not, Rich, you gave me your word."

"Yeah and that and a nickel will get you a cup of coffee." Richie said in a self depreciating tone.

Duncan hid his smile at the quaint expression. He'd already learnt that being bounced between various foster homes had left Richie with some odd quirks in his ongoing quest to fit in and be accepted. Sometimes he wondered what habits Richie would pick up from him. His taste in clothes? His liking for fine wine?

Hopefully how to keep his head.

"Hey, you signed up for the program, remember? And I know you're not a quitter." He assured him.

"Shows what you know, then," Richie scoffed.

"Richie .." Duncan tried to protest.

"C'mon Mac. My personal best, is a few weeks, at a boxing club. Boy Scout? Less than a week. Choir Boy? One service. When my foster parents signed me up for piano lessons, the teacher didn't even stay long enough to take off her coat."

"Boxing?" Duncan enquired.

"My foster father thought it would do me some good. Make a real man outta this scrawny little kid that he'd been lumbered with. But when my social worker finally came around she thought it was too violent and I had to stop going after that."

"Sounds to me like you would have kept at that .. given the chance." Duncan suggested.

"Yeah," Richie looked slightly surprised by the realisation. "Yeah, I guess I would .."

***

"You want to teach him to do _what?" Tessa frowned from the bed, as Duncan towelled his hair dry after his shower. _

"He's not going to be going in for any prize fights Tess, just a few rounds with the bag to see how he feels about it."

"First the swords, then the motorcycle, now boxing?" Tessa shook her head. "Could you not teach him to collect stamps or make models like any other child?"

"The only models I can see Richie being interested in," Duncan smirked. "Aren't made of plastic."

"That is a matter of opinion." Tessa sniffed.

"C'mon Tess," Duncan sat down by her on the bed. "If you have seen his face when I offered .."

"You have already told him of this?" Tessa's voice chilled.

"Um. It just slipped out?" Duncan offered hopefully.

"Ah! Duncan Macleod, sometimes I swear you are as bad as Richie. Worse even, for you should know better." Tessa threw up her hands.

"But since I have .. You wouldn't want to disappoint him, would you?"

"I suppose not," Tessa couldn't resist that pleading expression from Duncan, anymore than she could hold out when Richie used it on her. "But I am trusting you to take good care of him."

"Of course, thank you, sweetheart," Duncan kissed her.

"Hmm, this day will not be much of a punishment for him," Tessa observed. "If he spends all his time wrapping you around his little finger."

"You haven't checked the diary for today, have you?" Duncan gave her a tight smile.

"Of course I have .." Tessa's expression changed. "Oh Duncan, you cannot .. it is too much!" She laughed.

"Yeah, but he won't even think about breaking curfew again, will he?" Duncan grinned.

***

"And, what does the prisoner get for breakfast?" Richie jumped onto into the kitchen counter and started drumming his feet against the doors. "Bread and water? A spot of gruel?"

The hour long run didn't appear to have put the slightest dent in his energy levels, Duncan noted.

"Will you stop that?"

Richie ceased drumming his feet, only to take up the refrain with his tapping fingers a few seconds later.

"Richie .." Duncan warned.

"Fine, whatever," Richie hopped down off the counter and started pacing around the room, idly plucking a pair of chopsticks from a storage jar and starting a improvised percussion session on the stainless steel canisters.

Duncan lifted his head to tell him to give it a rest.

Except, he was surprisingly good at it.

"You have quite a talent for that." He observed.

Richie dropped the chopsticks, as if burnt, like he hadn't actually realised what he was doing. Duncan held onto every ounce of patience he had and waited.

But, sure enough, Richie changed the subject.

"So, What's the rest of my punishment then? Tedious boredom?" Richie offered. "Putting all your CD's in alphabetical order?"

"They already are," Duncan observed dryly. "As well you know."

"Mindless labour? Death by brio?"

"Actually," Duncan glanced at the clock. "We have to meet a supplier. He's only in town for a couple of days. So we'd better not be late."

"Hey, you were the one who was on this drag this morning." Richie teased.

"How did you manage to get up so early?" Duncan asked, . "I never heard your alarm."

"I figured I was only gonna get a few hours sleep at the most. What was the point in going to bed?"

"You haven't been to sleep?" Duncan clarified. "At all?"

"Chill Mac, I've had lots of coffee."

Duncan swallowed hard. Richie was a ball of energy at the best of times, Richie, full of caffeine, would be bouncing off the walls.

"How much coffee?"

"I dunno," Richie frowned. "How much does the coffee pot hold?"

"Please don't tell me you drank a whole one of those?" Duncan asked, in horror.

"Nope," Richie grinned at him. "I drank two."

"Riche!" Duncan protested.

"Hey, no biggie. We've got a big day ahead, right?"

 "That's exactly what I'm afraid of." Duncan muttered


	3. Bored in the Boardroom

AN – Sorry this has taken soooo long to update. Right now I can only cope with one story at a time. So now I've finally finished R of P this one will be getting my full attention from now on. Honest!

***

"I don't know why you made me change into this." For about the hundredth time, since they had left Richie pulled at his suit jacket, trying, unsuccessfully, to get comfortable.

"It makes you look smart." Duncan didn't take his eyes off the road as he pulled away at the intersection..

"It makes me look stupid," Richie countered. "This jacket of yours is huge. You could fit two of me in here. I can't even see my hands."

"You didn't seem to have any problems changing the channel on the radio." Duncan observed dryly.

"Survival instinct," Richie huffed, sinking a little lower into his seat. "Besides, you changed it back." 

"You're grounded, remember? That means you have to listen to what I want."

"You know this classical stuff will stunt my growth don't you? Scientists have made studies."

"This music was around long before scientists," Duncan smiled. "You could try listening to it, rather than complaining. Who knows? You might even like it."

They rode in silence for a while.

"Um. Mac," Richie shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Are we nearly there yet?"

Duncan blinked.

"I cannot believe you actually just said that."

"I'm serious. Are we almost there?"

"About another ten minutes." He looked over at the teen. Richie was slightly pale and shifting around in his seat as if he was in pain.

"What's wrong?" He asked, in concern.

"Um. Nothing," Richie squirmed. "Just, can you drive any faster?"

"Richie," Even as he pressed down on the gas a little harder, Duncan shot him a concerned glance. "What's wrong? Did you pull a muscle or something when we were running?"

Duncan didn't think so. He'd be very careful to ensure that Richie had down the proper warm ups and cooled down slowly after their run. But he was still a novice and accidents happened. And something was definitely wrong with him.

"No," Richie hissed, between clenched teeth. "I'm fine."

"You don't look fine." Duncan worried. "C'mon, Tough Guy, tell me what's wrong."

A bright pink spot appeared in each of Richie's cheeks.

"Its nothing. I just really, really, need to go to the bathroom."

He looked miserably out of the window, waiting for the Immortal to laugh at his childish predicament, or maybe yell at him for drinking so much coffee in the first place. 

"Just hold on," Duncan meant to be reassuring, but winced at the unintended pun. "We're almost there."

***

"Better now?" Duncan greeted him as he emerged from the immense marble bathroom, putting aside his newspaper and rose gracefully out of one of the black leather armchairs scattered around the lobby.

Richie shot a swift glance at the Immortal to see if he was teasing him. But he saw only honest concern.

"Yeah, thanks." He shrugged, self consciously. "Sorry."

"Will you stop apologising?" Duncan shook his head, reaching over to straighten Richie's jacket collar with affectionate exasperation, the warm of his fingers brushing Richie's neck, making him feel unaccustomedly cared for and looked after.

"Sorry."  Richie joked, as he risked a shy smile.

Just as Mac opened his mouth to reply, a large dark haired man, in black jeans and a leather jacket hailed him from across the lobby. Richie distinctly heard the words Duncan Macleod, but everything after that was gibberish.

Oh, please no.

But sure enough, Duncan was shaking the man by the hand and obviously asking after his flight. Then he was turning to introduce Richie, who smiled and nodded in what he hoped was a suitable manner. Although, Mac could just have told leather jacket that he was the pizza delivery boy for all Richie knew. Then they were heading off towards the elevators, presumably to meet with the others upstairs. Mac was pressed a large leather notebook and a pen into his hands.

"Why are you giving me these?" Richie hissed, under his breath even though leather jacket showed no sign of understanding him.

Catching his eye, Richie smiled and nodded at him.

"Because," Mac got in beside him in the elevator and spoke out of the corner of his mouth. "You're going to take the minutes."

"What!" Richie kept his voice low. "Mac, I can't understand a word this guy says."

"He doesn't know that," Duncan shrugged. "Just look interested and keep writing."

"What's the point in that?" Richie huffed.

Duncan leant over slightly, so close that Richie could feel the warmth of his breath against his ear.

"Or you could just write out I will not stay out past my curfew 100 times."

"Oh," Richie swallowed, truth be told, Mac had been so cool, he had kinda forgotten he was supposed to be being punished. "Right." He nodded earnestly.

Still. He couldn't resist one last point.

"How come he isn't wearing a suit?"

"Because," Mac told him with sweet reason as they all exited the elevator. "He's not grounded. And he's a millionaire."

There was, Richie decided, no arguing with that.

Except.

"Mac? How rich are you?"

***

Three hours and forty five and a half minutes Richie was almost ready to fall on his pen, when Mac and Herr Schultz, suddenly stood up. There was a quick flurry of handshakes all round, and then he and Mac were alone in the boardroom.

"I'm sorry." Richie said instantly.

"What exactly are you sorry for Richie?" Duncan asked, with deceptive calm.

Richie winced. This was bad.

"You can't blame me for the water jug," he protested. "That was an accident."

"An accident that would never have happened if you had been paying attention to what you were doing instead of looking at that secretary's .. credentials."

"OK, so I got a little distracted. But the ink thing, that wasn't my fault at all. Your pen is defective."

"My pen has worked perfectly well as a quality writing instrument for the last eighty years." Duncan corrected.

"Mac, the end came off. Balding guy over there got ink all over his four figure suit."

"That is because the manufacturers never envisaged it being employed as a drumstick. What was that tune you were playing anyway?"

The Immortal was sure he had recognised it. But, right now for the life of him he couldn't quite place it. Richie looked away and muttered something Duncan didn't catch.

"What was that?" 

Richie flicked him a quick, awkward, glance.

"Um. The Great Escape."

The …" Duncan had to take a deep breath to calm himself. He only hoped that the German businessmen were not familiar with that particular World War II  movie.

"Aw, c'mon Mac, what else was I gonna do? Boardroom is right," Richie protested. "I was going out of my mind here."

"Didn't you learn anything from this morning's experience?" Duncan demanded, exasperated.

"Yeah," Richie looked back at his notes. "Mr Schultz there," he nodded to where leather jacket had been sitting, "Has a collection of paintings that he inherited from his Grandfather, big name dudes, Monet, Reuben and the like, and he wants you to sell them for him in the States, cos he thinks he'll get a better price here, but you want to check something .. I missed that .." Richie frowned. ".. so you know its all above board."

"The provenance," Duncan spoke slowly. "I want to make sure that his Grandfather had legal title to the pictures. During the war so many things were stolen or sold on the black market. I just want to make sure they are really his to sell. How do you know all that?  I thought you didn't speak German?"

"I don't," Richie shrugged. "I don't speak Spanish or Mexican either, but I can tell when a deal's going down. You need to in my neighbourhood."

"You old neighbourhood," Duncan corrected.

"I fit in better there than I do with dudes like that."

"Oh, and how many Reuben's are there in your old neighbourhood?" Duncan challenged.

"Depends how many heists there have been lately." Richie shrugged. "Besides, all it took was to recognise the names."

Duncan decided not to point out that he wouldn't have been able to do that a few months ago.

"And some of the words weren't that different from Polish." Richie finished. "It wasn't that hard to put it all together."

"C'mon," Duncan grinned at him as he pulled his jacket off the back of his chair and stood up. "You can pick where we go for lunch."

 "I can? But I thought you were mad at me," Richie trailed after him, confused.

"That was when I thought you weren't paying attention." 

***

"You took him out to lunch?" Tessa raised a sceptical brow. "And what will you do this afternoon? Torture him with actions movies? Or force feed him hot fudge sundaes?" 

 "It wasn't like that."

Across the room, Richie paused in his dusting and looked anxiously over his shoulder, causing Tessa to drop her voice.

"Oh, I know exactly what it was like, Duncan Macleod," she whispered. "He is supposed to be on punishment."

"He's a teenager. Wearing a suit and sitting still for almost four hours, is punishment," Duncan hissed back. "And he showed a great deal of initiative working out what was going on. Don't you think that deserved some reward?"

"If you cannot be firm with him. Then you can watch the Store this afternoon. I will take him with me."

"You're going to take him to the Gallery?" Duncan was so surprised, he didn't realise that he had spoken so loudly until Richie appeared at his elbow.

"The Gallery? Cool, will Carole be there?"

Duncan winced. Sometimes Richie seemed like such a bright lad. And then there were the other times.

"Why?" Tessa asked sternly. "So, you can tell her you are grounded?"

"Ah, maybe not." Richie looked at his feet. "Do you want me to put Mac's suit on again?"

"No," Tessa looked him up and down. "You'll be fine as you are."

"Are you sure?" Richie glanced up. "You normally hate these clothes."

"Richie, go and put on something you won't mind getting dirty," Duncan rescued him.

Richie glanced over at Tessa. "Hard labour, huh?"

"We are leaving in ten minutes." Tessa told him.

"Right." Richie nodded.

"Sweetheart, I don't think this is a very good idea." Duncan tried again.

"That, is because you worry too much," Tessa leant over and kissed him on the nose. "Richie and I will be just fine."


	4. Into the Night

AN_ Thanks to everyone for their patience. I'm sorry I haven't updated earlier, but I went on vacation – which gave me a few ideas for new stories!! But one thing at a time, hope you enjoy.

***

Usually, Tessa loved arranging shows in the small, downtown gallery. The large picture windows and the light wooden floors ensured the rooms were bright and well lit, showing off the art to perfection. The artists she met were young and enthusiastic, keeping her own passion alive.

Today was not usually. 

"But which way is up?" She demanded to the empty room, as she stepped back to look at the half assembled modern sculpture, a piece of twisted metal in one hand and a sheet of faxed instructions in the other, as she tried to puzzle them out. The artist, was not arriving from Paris until the night of the private viewing, when everything had to be perfect. What kind of exhibition co-ordinateur would she look like if his prize winning exhibit was displayed upside down?

"Maybe, this way." She continued talking to herself, leaning forward as she tried to force the piece into position.

It didn't seem to fit.

"Um, Tessa?"

Richie's voice made her jump, causing her grip on the metal to slip and its edge to bite into the edge of her hand. The resulting cut made her swear in frustration.

"Tessa," Richie hurried forward. "Are you, OK?"

"Of course, I am not OK," Tessa protested. "I am bleeding."

"Oh shit. Here, let me take a look."

"Don't touch it!" Tessa evaded his grasp. "And don't swear!"

"You swore," Richie mumbled resentfully, stung by her refusal to let him help her. "I heard you."

"Yes, well," Tessa was momentarily dumbfounded. She wouldn't have expected that he knew what _merde_ meant. "That's different. I am an adult." Even as the words fell from her lips she realised how bad that sounded. The look Richie gave her spoke volumes. Her hand throbbed, demandingly and she put it in her mouth to soothe it.

"You shouldn't put that in your mouth," Richie said, at once. "At least, let me put on a band aid or something."

"This is fine." She mumbled.

"Your mouth is full of bacteria and stuff. It'll get infected."

Irritated, Tessa pulled the finger from her mouth. "I thought I told you to clean out the stockroom," She snapped, feeling out of sorts. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"You made me come. Remember?" Richie said sulkily. 

"I beg your pardon?" Tessa arched a dangerous brow.

"I finished cleaning the stockroom." Richie amended. 

"Then you cannot have done a very good job." Tessa sniffed stalking across the room, determined to see for herself, so she could find fault with his work. Duncan was, she had decided, entirely too liberal with the boy. So, he had had a rather, unorthodox childhood, but surely that was all the more reason to insist on normal family values. She didn't understand why Duncan seemed so willing to give him so much lee way. Perhaps, being eighteen had been different when he was a boy, but they were living in the twentieth century now.

So, when the storeroom provided to be surprisingly tidy and free from dust, she was not to be mollified. "Well, then. You can take all the glassware off those shelves and give it a good wash."

"All of it?" Richie gawped at her. "Tess, I already did everything you asked. You're not being fair."

"Was it fair that you left us worrying while you were out enjoying yourself, hmm?" Tessa wanted to remind the young man why he was there. 

"But there must be a zillion pieces of glass there." Richie protested. "We'll be here forever!"

 "Then you had better get started, hadn't you?"

***

"Enfin!" Tessa exclaimed, triumphantly, as she slotted the last piece of metal into place, surveying her efforts with satisfaction. Three transatlantic telephone calls and four faxes later, she was finally confident that the exhibit was exactly as the artist intended.

"What exactly is it meant to be?"

Tessa bit back a sharp retort, when she saw the genuinely curious look on Richie's face.

"You know," she laughed. "I have absolutely no idea."

Richie didn't laugh with her as he rose, a little stiffly, from his cross legged position on the floor by the door to make his way over to her side.

"How long have you been sitting there?" Tessa frowned.

"I dunno. An hour, maybe." Richie shrugged, not looking at her.

"An hour!" Tessa reached out and grasped one of his pale hands between hers. "You are like a block of ice. Why didn't you say something?

"You were busy." Richie looked at his feet.

"And I was not very nice to you before." Tessa realised, softening her tone somewhat. 

"I finished cleaning the glasses." Richie pulled his hand out of hers.

"You did?" Tessa couldn't help the note of surprise in her voice. For the first time, she realised it had gotten dark outside.

"You can go check if you don't believe me." Richie crossed his arms in front of him in a gesture that was, at once, defiant and defensive.

But Tessa was no longer listening. She was looking at her watch with a kind of abject horror. She had had no idea it was so late.

"I'm supposed to be meeting that journalist at Quinzos in fifteen minutes!"

Quinzos, Richie knew, was a smart café bar, halfway across town. If he was on his bike he could have made it in time. But Tessa, having learnt to drive in rural France had never gotten very comfortable with city traffic.

"So, call and tell her you'll be late."

"And you think she will just wait?" Tessa scoffed. "She is a very prestigious art critic. I cannot afford to be late."

"Alright then, call yourself a cab, if you offer a large enough tip you should just about get there in time and I'll take your car home."

"You are grounded, mon brave, remember? That means no driving privileges."  

"Tess, I'm just trying to help. I thought this was an emergency." Richie pointed out.

"Then we will just have to hurry." Tessa decided.

***

"Um. Tess," She looked up from behind the wheel of the Mercedes in irritation to see Richie still hovering on the sidewalk. "Can we put the top up?"

"There's no time. Its not that cold. We'll be there soon."

"Yeah, but .." Richie shifted from foot to foot.

"Richie, just get in!" Tessa commanded. "Or I will leave without you."

"It was an empty threat, but it wasn't until much later that Tessa realised that Richie didn't know this, as he climbed in beside her. She had no time to spare for his moods as he sat silently beside her, leaning against the door. The traffic was even worse than she had feared and soon it was nose to tail.

"Tess, what are you doing?" Richie sat up a little straighter, as she started to indicate to change lanes.

"I am taking a shortcut."

"You know, in this neighbourhood, that's not really a good idea."

"It will save us time," Tessa was adamant. "I can't be late."

"Better late than never," Richie pointed out. "At least, let's stop and put the top up."

"You worry too much." Tessa shook her head.

"Tessa ..."

"Richie, just be quiet and let me concentrate!" Tessa snapped.

For the next few blocks they drove in uncomfortable silence. Tessa knew that she should not be taking her anxiety over her tardiness out on Richie. But he was acting as if she was the reckless child and he was the adult. After all, she was a grown woman, she had made a new life for herself on a new continent, she could take care of herself, he was the one who had stayed out all night drinking and partying and who knew what else. When she shivered slightly, she tried telling herself it was the cold night air, rather than the deserted neighbourhood, but still, maybe it wouldn't hurt to stop and put up the top. She started to slow.

"Don't stop." Richie said, looking not at her but at something in the far side wing mirror.

"What's wrong?" Tessa asked, flicking a quick glance at the teen.

"Maybe nothing." Richie answered, but his tone was wary, every sinew in his body tense and alert.

"Richie?" Tessa asked, for the first time her voice edged with fear.

"Just keep driving, okay?" Richie said, levelly, not taking his eyes off the mirror.

"Why?" Tessa demanded, even as she took in the stop light ahead.

"Tess," There was a sudden urgency in Richie's voice that Tessa had never heard before. "Whatever you do, don't stop."

"But the light is red." Tessa protested, her natural, law abiding instincts making her continue to slow the car, even as she spoke.

It happened so quickly, Tess would afterwards struggle to recall the exact sequence of events. As the car came to a halt at the light, a boy, not much older than Richie appeared from no where, to stand in front of the car, another simultaneously appeared at the side door, his flick knife, glinting dully in the streetlights and a third emerged out of the darkness to hover by the drivers door.

"Hit the gas!" Richie hollered, sure that the kid would dive to one side when the car picked up speed.

"I can't!" Tessa panicked. "I'll hit him."

"Quick then, back up." Richie instructed. But even as he spoke, the car that had been following then pulled up behind so that Tessa's car was effectively trapped.

"What now?" Tessa turned wild eyes to Richie.

Richie flinched slightly as a tall, thin, older boy, with long, dark, hair, climbed out of the car behind and made his way over to the drivers side. 

"Just .. be ready."

Ready for what? Tessa wanted to ask. But the boy was already at the driver's door, his eyes widening with something like surprise, or recognition.

"Slick. Long time no see."

"Hello Vinnie." Richie responded.


	5. Danger

AN- Thanks to everyone for the reviews, You want update .. I can update! I have tried real hard not to make it a cliiffie – well kinda! But the next chapter will be up real soon.

 ***

"Nice wheels." 

The youth lounging menacingly against the drivers door looked over the Mercedes in a way that made Tessa's flesh crawl.

"Yeah," Richie agreed. "Belongs to my employer. Big guy. Lotsa muscles. He only ever drives it to the boxing gym."

"Then he won't miss it much, will he?" Vinnie smirked. 

"C'mon Vinnie," Richie tried. "You don't want a car like this. Its vintage man. Way too flashy to be a good score. Where are you gonna find the parts?"

"He's right, Vin," One of the other kids spoke up. "That things way outta our league."

Tessa felt a flare of hope, but Richie sank slightly lower in his seat as Vinnie's face crumpled into fury. As he turned away to confront the other boy, Tessa was surprised to feel Richie press something into her right hand. Her eyes widened when she identified its smooth, slim shape, as a knife.

"Insurance." Richie spoke softly.

Tessa nodded dumbly, slightly shocked to find that the easy going teen she knew, would have such a thing in his possession..

"You questioning me?" Vinnie was yelling as he grabbed the other boy by his shirt front and pulled him up on his toes.

"No, man. I'm just saying is all." The other kid gibbered.

"Well, don't."

Vinnie dropped him like a stone and turned his attention back to the two occupants of the car.

"Alright, Slick, outta the car," He leered at Tessa. "You, pretty lady, you can ride along with me."

"She's French," Richie cut in quickly. "You gotta speak French to her."

"You think I'm stupid, Slick?" Vinnie scowled at Richie. "You don't speak no French."

Richie just shrugged.

Vinnie frowned.

"She don't look foreign. What's your name, sweetheart?"

Tessa looked at Richie with something close to panic.

He shook his head, slightly. If Vinnie figured he couldn't make any headway with her, he'd quickly loose interest. He liked to manipulate and intimidate, gorgeous as she was, Richie knew Tessa would be far less interesting and attractive to him, if he thought she didn't speak any English.

Taking a step closer to the car, Vinnie pushed Tessa's hair back from her face with his fingers. The sent of blood and lust was almost overpowering. She stiffened, but tried not to flich.

"Here's the deal, sweetheart, you tell me your name, or pretty boy Slick here gets cut. Real bad."

Taking a deep breath, Tessa gambled that they would be in even greater danger if this boy realised that Richie had lied to him. Praying that she was right, she opened her mouth and emitted a stream of flawless French.

"What about Spanish?" Vinnie tried the only other language he knew. "You speak Spanish?"

Tessa gave him her very best blank look and most Gaelic shrug.

"Alright," Vinnie snapped, loosing face and patience in front of his gang. "Out of the car. Both of you."

"You know him?" Tessa hissed, when they were standing on the sidewalk. "How do you know such a person?"

"Kindergarten. He used to steal all the other kids trucks." Richie shrugged. "Give me your purse," 

"What?"

"Quick, while they are arguing over who's gonna drive the Merc."

Dumbly, Tessa complied, watching as Richie expertly sorted through the contents, hiding credit cards and other valuables in his various pockets.

"What if he checks." Tessa worried, as he passed her back the almost empty purse.

"He won't," Richie shook his head. "Not until he's a long way from here."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because its what I'd do."

Tessa gawped at him, of course, she knew what Richie was, what he had been, she hastily amended, embarrassed to think badly of him, even in her own mind, but to see him acting with sure smooth confidence was .. un nerving.

"Alright, give me your purse." Vinnie's out stretched hand made his meaning unmistakable. Still Tessa looked at Richie. What if he was wrong?

"Tell her," Vinnie scowled at Richie.

"Um. Champignon." Richie encouraged. "Roquefort. Vin Rouge." He nodded at her, dredging up the few French words he knew. Tessa hastily handed it over.

"And those rings and that bracelet too." Vinnie demanded, gesturing.

Tessa hesitated for just a second, Duncan had bought her that bracelet their first Christmas together, then she hastily stripped off the jewellery, only to see it disappear into Vinnie's inside jacket pocket.

"Alright, Slick," Vinnie turned to Richie with a smug grin. "What did you bring to the party?"

"Yeah right," Richie scoffed. "What do you want first? My gold Rolex or my platinum American Express? Maybe my designer sneakers?" To make his point he wiggled his toe through the end of the worn shoes that he'd put on in preparation for his time in the salt mines with Tessa.

"Used to be you knew how things worked around here," Vinnie took a step closer,  running a thumb lightly down his blade.

"Aw, c'mon man," Richie seemed to be edging away from him. "Have a heart. I don't got nothing here. All you're gonna do is ruin a good shirt."

"I can get another shirt." Vinnie hissed.

"I meant mine," Richie circled. "Yours looks like dog vomit."

"You little shit .." Vinnie launched himself at Richie, landing a vicious slice across one cheek

"Richie!" Tessa put her hand to her mouth in horror.

"Shut up, Lady." Vinnie hissed. He glowered at Richie. "Make her shut her mouth, or I'll shut it for her."

"Tess, la voiture,"  Richie hollered, as if he was telling her to be quiet. For a second she didn't quite comprehend what he had actually said, until he tipped his head towards the car, she nodded her understanding and started to edge back towards the Mercedes, even as the other boys crowned in on the fight, yelling encouragement to their leader. "Cut him … Slice him … Make him pay, man."

All at once, Vinnie utter a guttural, animal, cry and fall to the ground, writhing in such agony that she stood there, mesmerised. Startled, she realised that Richie had kicked him in a very vulnerable place.

"Tess, c'mon willya!" Suddenly, Richie gripped her wrist and pulled her towards the car.

"But we don't have the keys." Tessa protested, even as she complied. Looking back over her shoulder, she saw the rest of the gang crowding around Vinnie's prone body on the sidewalk.

"Don't need 'em," Richie proved his point by reaching under the dash and pulling out a handful of wires, grunting softly as the power surged as he completed the circuit, and the engine roared into life.

"How did you do that?" Tessa blinked.

"Practise." Richie accelerated, pressing his foot as flat to the floor, keeping a wary eye on the rear view mirror.

"You're bleeding."

Richie reached up and scrubbed at the cut on his face, as if he had forgotten about it.

"You'll get germs in it." Tessa reminded him with a smile.

"Yeah," Richie didn't take his eyes off the road. "Well, I'll live."

"What were you thinking?" Tessa scolded, her fear giving way to relief. "Provoking him like that?"

"How else was I gonna get him close enough?"

"Close enough for what?"

 Richie took his right hand off the wheel and dug around inside his jacket. "Here." He dropped something in her lap.

"My jewellery?" She blinked in realisation. "You picked his pocket?"

"Well, I thought about asking him nicely .." Richie gave her a scornful glance.

Oh, Richie, I am not angry with you," She was touched that he would have done such a thing. "But it is insured. You should not have taken such a risk."

"You love that bracelet," Richie gave an awkward shrug. "Mac gave it to you your first Christmas together."

"You remembered that?"

Richie didn't reply.

"Mac, will be so proud of you, you know." Tessa vowed, sincerely.

Richie looked away. Of course she was gonna tell Mac about this. How could she not?

"Richie?" Tessa's voice asked softly.

Suddenly, the car made a strange, knocking, sound, before coasting, slowly, to a halt.

 "Damn," Richie pounded his fist in frustration on the steering wheel, glancing behind him anxiously.

"What is it?" Tessa worried.

"We're gonna have to ditch the car that's what."

"But we just got it back!" Tessa protested. "You are supposed to be good with cars. Surely, you can fix it?"

"Tessa. We're out of gas." 

"Oh, no!" Tessa put her hand to her mouth. "I meant to fill up when I went to the Market, yesterday, but then I met Linda and we got talking about the new project at the museum. I must have forgotten."

"Hold on. You've got a can in the truck, right?" Richie knew that Mac always made sure that the cars had a full emergency kit..

"Ah," Tessa blushed. "Not exactly."

"What do you mean? "Not exactly?"

"I meant to fill that up too," Tessa admitted. "I used it the last time I ran out."

"Oh great, just great," Richie shook his head.

"What are we going to do?" Tessa asked helplessly.

Richie thought for a moment.

"We'll have to walk. There's a phone booth about three blocks south of here. We can call the breakdown company and they can come and pick up the car."

"And, Mac will be home by then, so he can come and pick us up." Tessa nodded her agreement.

"Just give me a sec, OK?"

Tessa watched in bemusement as he went around the car removed all the hubcaps, took off the license plates, all the chrome fittings, and carefully removed the stereo, these he stored in the truck, before he let the air out of all the tyres, and dismantled the dash. Lastly, he popped the hood and pulled out the alternator, which he slipped into his pocket.

"Its not foolproof," he frowned at the seemingly abandoned car. "But it's the best I can do at short notice."

"Is that why they call you Slick?" Tessa asked. "Because you are the smooth operator?"

Richie turned a blank, hollow, expression on her that she had never seen before.

"No." he said shortly.

He pulled out a dark bandana from his pocket, which, although it did little to make him look harder, or older, did stop the light from the streetlights from glinting off the red highlights in his blond curls.

"Can you walk alright in those shoes?" He gestured at her feet.

"These shoes cost me over $200," Tessa sniffed determinedly. "They had better be good for something."

She'd only gone a few yards when she felt the first tell tale burn of a blister forming. Setting her teeth against the inevitable pain she forced herself onwards. After all, it was only a few blocks. She had walked miles last time her and Duncan had gone away on that romantic country weekend.

Of course, Mac had made sure she had some proper walking shoes.

She sighed.

***

Across town, Duncan Macleod frowned into the telephone. "No, Ms Harper, I'm sure that she didn't just forget about your appointment. Yes, I'm positive she knows just how busy you are. No, she hasn't tried to call me. Yes, I'll be in touch, if I hear anything. Good night."

Putting the phone down Duncan quickly dialled the gallery. After several minutes of nothing but the ringing tone he finally admitted defeat and put the phone down.

In her present mood, even Richie's charm was unlikely to have convinced Tessa to down tools and take him out for ice cream or pizza. And, in any case, it was most unlike her to simply forget such an important appointment.

Which meant that they were in some kind of trouble.

Duncan had no doubt that Richie would do whatever it took, to keep Tessa safe. He just wasn't convinced that the lad would care half as much for his own safety.

He paced uneasily for several minutes, until, driven by the need to do something, he picked up his car keys, shrugged into his jacket and made his way down the stairs.

A few minutes later the phone began to ring.


	6. Discoveries

AN – Thanks so much for all the positive reviews, and especial thanks for Laurakkc for the crash course in car mechanics, – I know what I meant but it wasn't what I said! – and Neoinean, you will find out why they call him Slick – just not in this chapter. And look, no cliffie, bet you didn't think I could do that!

***

"There is no answer," Tessa put the phone down. "I was sure he would be home by now."

"You don't think?" Richie made swooshing motions with his arm.

"I don't know," Tessa pressed her lips together, worriedly. "I will call us a Taxi."

"Um. Tess, you're not going to get a Taxi to come to this neighbourhood, at this time of night," Richie indicated the street corner. "Not unless, you can give them an actual address."

"Well, we can't just stand here!" Tessa snapped. "What do you suggest?"

"You want me to steal a car?" Richie offered diffidently.

"No, I do not want you to steal a car!" Tessa sank down on the kerb and pulled off her shoe to check for blisters. "We will just wait here until Duncan comes home."

"Um, Tess," Richie looked up. "I don't think that's a very good idea."

Tessa followed his gaze to see a familiar looking red car with orange flames down its side cruising slowly down the block.

"C'mon," Richie grabbed her wrist and pulled her up across the sidewalk to shelter in a doorway.

"My shoe!" Tessa reached for it.

"Leave it," Richie pulled her back into the shadows seconds before the car passed by. After a few heartbeats, he suddenly became aware that he was pressed up very close against Tessa, in a very small space. He moved back out onto the sidewalk. "You OK?"

"I think so," Tess nodded, looking slightly dazed.

Richie jogged over to retrieve her shoe. "Your slipper, my Lady," he held it out.

"Ah, about that." Tessa reached down and held up her other shoe, with the heel twisted right off.

"$200 and they call that craftsmanship?" Richie scoffed.

"You sound like Duncan," she shook her head. "I think he believes that we should all wear boots with good, thick, sensible, soles."

"Well, you wouldn't catch me in anything I couldn't make tracks in," Richie told her. "Look, just sit there. I'll give my friend Gary a call. If he's not working, he can swing by and pick us up."

"Won't his parents mind him being out at this time of night?" Tessa worried.

"I shouldn't think so. He hasn't lived with his folks since he was fifteen and joined the circuit."

"The circuit?"

"The pro racing circuit. Course, he had to lie about his age." Richie tossed over his shoulder as he went over to make the call.

Tessa sighed, as she sank down onto the door step. She and Duncan were trying so hard to give Richie a normal, family life. But how was that possible, when his friends lived such lives? In such a place that even a Taxi would not come?

"He'll be here in a few minutes," Richie came back and sat down beside her.

"Why did he have to lie about his age?"

"Because you have to be over 18 to race."

"So, why not wait until he was 18?" Tessa wondered.

"I dunno." Richie shrugged. "Never asked."

"Don't you have any normal friends?" Tessa asked, exasperated.

"What? You mean like Mac?" Richie challenged.

"No, I mean normal teenagers, who live at home with their parents and graduate High School and spend their time playing football or soccer."

"Tess, most families in this neighbourhood are single parents. Half the brothers and sisters have different fathers. It's the kids whose parents so stay together that aren't normal."

"But it is not right!" Tessa worried.

"Its just the way it is."

Tessa was angry, with his calm acceptance of such a state of affairs. Did he not realise that he was a unique, amazing, talented, human being, who deserved to be the very best that he could be?

"And this lying and stealing and sneaking about? This is not normal? It is criminal." She reasoned.

"Hey," Richie replied, stung. "I was just trying to look out for you. We wouldn't even have been in this neighbourhood, if you hadn't insisted on taking the stupid shortcut."

The guilt that Tessa had been harbouring all evening, flared up.

"We would not have been running late, if you had told me what time it was."

"Well, I might have done, if you hadn't been acting like the ice Queen."

"If you had not been so irresponsible in the first place, then you would not have been being punished."

"Me? Irresponsible? You were the one who forget to fill up with gas."

"Me? You .." In that moment, all Tessa's fear and stress and guilt boiled over and she lashed out at the nearest available target.

Richie.

He was clearly not expecting the blow. And, afterwards, that made Tessa feel so much worse. Even as they argued, he was not afraid of her, not anxious that merely stating his opinion, or standing up for his point of view, would result in the vicious slaps or angry blows that she knew all too well been his lot in the past. Her hand connected with his injured cheek with such force that a bright red mark blossomed instantly. But worse, much worse, was that the force of the blow broke the cut on his cheek open again, so that it began bleeding freely.

She looked at the blood on her hand to Richie's stricken expression in horror.

"Richie, je suis desolee," she apologised, fervently, not even realising that she was speaking French. She reached up to try and staunch the blood, only to have him jump up out of her reach.

"Don't. Its fine." He said flatly.

"No, it is far from fine," Tessa said firmly, rising to her feet. "I had no right to do such a thing. I am so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

"Tessa, its fine," Richie assured her, in the same, emotionless, tone, even as he swiped the blood from his face with his hand, Tessa had to stifle the urge to chide him for it, she felt she had forfeited such a privilege for the moment. "Its forgotten."

"If you say so." Tessa wasn't agreeing.

"Mac's here." Richie said, looking over her shoulder, where the Highlander was half out the car before T-Bird had even come to a complete halt.

"Tessa! Richie!"

"Duncan!" Tessa turned to run to him, forgetting that she only had on one good shoe, as she stumbled, Duncan crossed to her in two long strides and caught her against his chest.

"Tessa, are you alright? Are ye hurt?" he worried. "I saw the car."

"Oh Mac," She hugged him tightly, breathing in his scent and sense of safety, here and warm and alive. "I'm fine now."

She felt him shift her slightly in his arms, so he could look over her shoulder.

"Richie?"

"I'm fine too, Mac."

"You're bleeding."

Tessa distinctly heard the note of concern in her lover's voice, as he gently disentangled himself from her and went to stand in front of Richie, carefully lifting his jaw into the light of the street lamp.

"Don't even say it, alright?" Richie sighed.

"Sorry, Tough guy," Duncan's tone was sympathetic, as he inspected the cut, brushing his thumb comfortingly along the teenager's jaw line. "That's gonna need stitches."

At that moment, a small, beat up, jeep, driven by a dark haired boy, a little older than Richie, pulled up. As he climbed out, Duncan could clearly see that this young man had the easy grace and confidence of someone who knew exactly how to take care of himself. And his friends, judging by the protective stance he took up at Richie's shoulder.

"This guy bothering you, Rich?"

"No man, this is Duncan Macleod. The guy I told you about. Um. Mac. This is Gary. He came to give us a ride home."

"A good friend, to come out at this time of night." Duncan, offered a friendly hand.

"Yeah, well," Gary's handshake was firm and strong. "Richie and I go way back." He was frowning at the fresh blood on his friend's face. "Vinnie?"

Duncan tensed.

Richie just shrugged.

"We should get you to the Hospital." Duncan told him.

Richie hesitated.

"Hey man, I can swing by the ER if you want to get the lady home." Gary offered.

"Yeah, Mac," Richie leapt in. "You know how much you hate Hospitals. And this time of night there's probably only one guy on duty. And it'll be hours before anyone sees us."

"Hey," Duncan put a warm hand on his shoulder. "Its no bother."

"I know," Richie nodded earnestly. "But hey, Gary's already here. Doesn't seem very fair to drag him all this way for nothing. Its cool."

Duncan looked back to where Tessa was standing, with her arms wrapped around her, as if to ward off the cold, surprised that she wasn't adding her voice to his.

"What do you think?"

"I think, Richie is old enough to make his own decisions."

"Alright," Duncan wasn't at all sure what was going on with his little family. But he wasn't about to resolve it here on the sidewalk. "We'll see you at home later." That wasn't a question. "If you need anything .."

"I'll call."  Richie nodded.

"I'll make sure he keeps outta trouble." Gary grinned.

"Then you're a better man than I am." Duncan sighed softly, as he led Tessa over to the T-Bird.


	7. Disclosures part one

AN – As so often happens with my stories this started out with a fairly simple idea and its kinda taken on a life of its own, - which means its going to be significantly longer than I originally planned, but it is great that so many people are getting caught up in the story, thanks so much for the all the reviews.

To Neoineon, I think Gary's popularity is due to the fact that that pre-immie Rich didn't have a lot of guy friends, - not with names anyway! To RRyanForever, um, gulp, another cliffie, should I duck now? But I am writing as fast as I can, to Laurakkc, Mac has his reasons for not going to Hospital, (there wrong but he has them) and Dani, wow, that's a lot of questions, I WILL get to them, but not all in one chapter – and to Lori, do you really think I'm gonna make it THAT easy? (grins).

 ***

"Alright," Duncan, led Tessa straight through the apartment towards their bedroom. "Let's get you taken care of, huh sweetheart?"

Tessa didn't seem to be badly hurt, but she hadn't spoken all the way home. He worried that whatever had happened to them out there was more traumatic then he knew. Maybe, she was going into shock. He settled her on the bed.

"Now, are you sure you don't need to go to the Hospital?"

"No, Duncan. I do not need a Hospital." She said, after a pause.

"OK, but you have to tell me where it hurts, love."

She looked at him and then looked away. But she knew him well enough to know that he would not let this drop.

"My feet." She waved a hand

That made sense. She was having trouble walking. He cast an eye over her feet, but her pantyhose was so dirty that it was hard to see how extensive the injuries were. First he cut away as much of the material as he dared. Then, he fetched a large basin and filled it with water, soaking the sole of each foot gently, before peeling away the remnants of the material, bracing himself for deep cuts and abrasions.

"Blisters?" he said incredulously.

"They should not be able to sell shoes at such prices if people cannot walk in them." Tessa protested.

"Sweetheart," Duncan tried to be patient. "I need to know if you are really hurt?"

"Oh, Duncan," she looked up at him. "Please hold me."

"Shh, easy sweetheart," Duncan hugged her and kissed the top of her head. "Its all over now."

Whatever "it" was.

"How about I run you a nice warm bath?" he coaxed. "Does that sound good?" At least that way he might be able to get her to relax. And he would be able to see if she had any other injuries he should know about.

In the ten minutes that it took the bath to fill Duncan was able to ascertain two things. The blisters not withstanding, Tessa didn't appear to have suffered any  physical injuries during the period that she was missing. But she was, most definitely, not herself, as she threw her expensive designer clothes on the floor with a total disregard for their care that he had never seen from her before.

Once she was safely in the bath, he busied himself picking them up, it might be that a good night's rest would be all it would take to restore her to her old self. If so, he didn't want to be the one dealing with the fallout in the morning, when she saw how wrinkled they were. Feeling something oddly heavy in her jacket pocket he reached inside to remove it. God forbid anything should pull the tailoring out of shape.

"Tessa, why do you have Richie's knife?" Duncan went to the bathroom door and held up the thin, blade.

"You know about that?" Tessa asked.

"Of course, I .." Duncan paused at her expression. "You didn't know?"

"Certainly not!" Tessa huffed. "He has no business carrying such a thing."

"Please, tell me that you didn't confiscate this from him." Duncan sighed.

"Surely you cannot agree that he should bring such a thing into our home?"

"Well, in the circumstances, I think I'm hardly in a position to call him on it." Duncan tried a smile.

"This is not a joke, Duncan. It is not a toy. It is a weapon. A very dangerous weapon."

"Alright, so its not ideal, but we need to get him to trust us. We want him to feel safe here. This is like his insurance policy," Was it his imagination, or did Tessa flinch slightly at those words? "He'll give it up when he feels ready, love, in the meantime, if you just take it way from him, he's just going to feel even more insecure."

"Well, thank you, Dr Spock," Tessa closed her eyes.

"So, are you going to give it back to him?" Duncan asked, as the silence stretched out.

"Me?" Tessa's eyes snapped open. "Why do I have to be the one to give it back to him?"

"Because you were the one who took it from him. You should be the one to tell him that you understand."

"But I don't .." Tessa shook her head. "I don't understand anything about his life."

"Tessa .."

"No, Duncan, if you think it is perfectly all right for him to be fighting with knives, then you give it back to him. I wish nothing to do with it!"

"Fighting?"

Tessa looked away.  "That is what they do with them, is it not? Fight?" She said, woodenly.

Duncan sighed. He'd suspected as much.

"Is that what happened tonight?" Duncan asked gently, coming in to sit on the edge of the tub. "Richie got into a fight?"

Tessa inspected her nails and ignored him.

"Tess, I know a knife cut when I see one. Richie's face didn't get like that by accident." Duncan pressed.

"I'm tired," Tessa declared, rising out of the tub.  "I'm going to bed."

"Aren't you even going to wait until Richie …" Duncan broke off as the phone began to ring. He was tempted to continue this and let the machine pick it up, but he was worried that it might be Richie, calling from the Hospital. 

"Macleod."

"Hello, kinsman."

"Connor," Duncan sighed. "Look, I'm sorry, but this isn't really a good time."

"One of us?"

"No, nothing like that. At least, I don't think so. Just a few .. family problems."

"Uh huh," Connor's voice came down the line. "Would this have anything to do with why my favourite nephew just called me?"

"Richie called you from the Hospital?" Duncan frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"Strangely enough," Connor said dryly. "He neglected to mention that particular piece of information. What is he doing in the Hospital?"

Briefly, Duncan told Connor what  he knew. Which wasn't much.

"Why did he call you?"

"He wanted to know if he could come and stay with me in New York for a while." Connor supplied.

"Did he say why?" Duncan asked hollowly.

"No, he did not," Connor sighed. "At first, I though the two of you had had some kind of falling out and he was running to Uncle Connor for a spot of spoiling. But this isn't some bit of boyish teenage rebellion Duncan, the lad is scared. Really scared."

"I should have gone with him to the Hospital." Duncan berated himself.

"Why didn't you?" Connor asked mildly.

"Because Richie made it clear that he didn't want me there and I didn't want to embarrass him in front of his friend by insisting."

"And you were afraid." Connor surmised.

"He's not ready for me to be his father Connor," Duncan defended himself. "He needs more time. If I push too hard I might loose him altogether."

"Duncan, take my advice, whatever's going on with that lad, he needs a father, whether he realises it or not. If you don't do something, you're going to loose him anyway."

"Well, I'll not make much headway if he's in New York with you."

"He came to me for help Duncan, I'll not turn him away. From Friday, they'll be a First Class ticket to New York with his name on it at the desk at the airport."

"Friday?" Duncan blinked. "Connor, that's almost a week away. Its not that hard to get a ticket in First Class."

"And if it was a real emergency, like his first death say, I would simply have dispensed with even that economy and chartered a plane for the lad," Connor agreed. "But Richie doesn't know that. And he doesn't need to know."

"Connor, I could kiss you."

"Kiss the lad for me instead," Connor laughed. "And when this is over, you can all come to New York, as a family."

"Aye, we will indeed." Duncan vowed.

Even as he replaced the phone, it immediately rang again. Duncan snatched it up quickly, hope flaring in his heart.

"Richie?"

It wasn't.

It was the breakdown company confirming that they had recovered the Mercedes. Wanting to keep the line free Duncan tried to hurry them through the routine report, until the mechanic suddenly said something that caught his attention.

"Out of gas? Are you sure?"

He listened for a moment, frowning intently.

"What about the emergency can? There should have been one in the trunk.? It was? I see," Duncan said, although he didn't all. "All locked in the trunk? Yes, I agree, that is very unusual. Just the alternator?" Duncan frowned, as realisation began to dawn. "Um, well no, don't replace it just yet. The old one might turn up. Yeah, I'm sure. Thanks for your call. Good night."

Replacing the phone for the second time, he stared at it for a moment, before he became aware of Tessa standing in the doorway.

"Does the fact that your car was out of gas have anything to do with why Richie wants to run away to New York?" he asked evenly.


	8. Some Answers

AN- Sorry for the delay but my internet connection is on the fritz thanks to a fault on my phone line and then I couldn't get into ff.net. Grr.

Thanks for all the reviews! Yellowvalley – Connor will appear again (but not much!) this is really Duncan and Tessa's problem, Neoinean, hum, looks around, me? Would I do that? (grins).

***

Tessa paled slightly and pressed her lips together. "Richie wishes to go to New York?"

"He called Connor from the Hospital and asked him if he could." Duncan watched her carefully for her reaction.

Whatever he expected, it wasn't this.

"When will he be leaving?" Tessa asked, flatly, turning away.

"Tess," Duncan followed her. "You can't mean that."

Tessa walked back into their bedroom and sat down at her dressing table, picking up her hairbrush and starting to brush her hair in quick, sharp, strokes. "If Richie wishes to go to New York, who are we to stop him?"

"His legal Guardians for one." Duncan pointed out.

"The authorities think that he is eighteen." Tessa pointed out. "They will not mind."

Duncan took a deep breath and ran a hand over his face. This evening was rapidly seeping out of his control.  "Tess, I thought we were making a family here. I thought that was what we all wanted."

"Clearly, Richie does not if he is choosing to go to New York."

"Did you two have some kind of fight?" Duncan asked with sudden insight.

Tessa paused in her brushing, then continued, brushing, even faster than before, as she spoke.

"Connor will take good care of him. It is for the best."

"For the best? How can sending him to the other side of the country be for the best?"

"He will be safer there."

"Safer? In New York?" Duncan spluttered.

Now he knew something was amiss. Despite all and any evidence to the contrary, Tessa still firmly believed that New York was the most dangerous of all US cites and that it was not possible to cross the street without the threat of mugging, or worse.

"Tessa, just last week you were painting a picture of New York to Richie that made it look like Sodam and Gomorrah combined. Now, all of a sudden you want him to go, all by himself?"

"He will not be by himself. He will be with Connor."

"He should be with his parents."

"Yes, but we are not his parents," Tessa flared with sudden heat. "Connor will know how to deal with him."

"Deal with him?" Duncan's eyebrows shot up.

"God knows, I cannot. No child of mine would know how to pick pockets and hotwire cars as he does."

It was several moments before Duncan was able to speak. Forcing his words out over a suddenly dry throat.

"You're always known what Richie was. I've never tried to hide that from you."

"How could you?" Tessa gave a hollow laugh. "I was right there when he broke into the Store."

"And you felt sorry for him. You wanted to help him."

"I saw a frightened boy, who had a sword at his throat! Who would not wish to help him?"

Duncan thought he could see where this was going. "Tess, Just because he's got a little more comfortable with us. A little more cocky. It doesn't mean he isn't still that frightened child under ...."

"Don't you understand? He was not the frightened one!" Tessa threw at him, before biting her lip abruptly and turning away.

Quietly, Duncan came up behind her and put his arms around her, waiting until he felt her relax into his arms.

"You're home now, you're safe." He spoke quietly.

"I am supposed to be the adult. I am meant to be the one taking care of him," Tessa protested. "I should never have taken that shortcut, it worried him so, but I was busy being angry at myself for running late. I refused to listen. to what I saw as his foolishness. Then he told me not to stop. Mais non, I had to the respectable thing, and it nearly got us both killed."

She took a long shuddering breath.

"I had hoped that I could be as a mother to him. I saw in him the child that I longed for. That we both wanted to make our family complete. But how can that be possible? He does not truly need us. He has just been … " she struggled for the word. "humouring us. You should have seen him, Duncan. Such a few moments, and the car looked utterly worthless. Where did he learn such things?"

"Just because he's not helpless, doesn't mean he doesn't need us, love." Duncan corrected.

Tessa shook her head. "Do you know how many times I have scolded him for waving the vegetable knife around as he talks? Such a small blade. What real harm could it do? Not to someone who thinks nothing of taunting hooligans who carry such large knives, when they themselves are totally defenceless, because he thinks I am more deserving of protection!"

"Taunting?" Duncan frowned.

"He actually encouraged this Vinnie to attack him, so he could retrieve my bracelet."

"I see." Duncan's jaw tightened.

"He was trying to do the right thing." Tessa offered, in defence of the teen. "He remembered that it was the first thing that you ever bought me for Christmas. It was important to him."

"Doesn't that tell you something?" Duncan hugged her a little closer. "Family is important to him, love. He can't quite get his head around the fact that we've been together for twelve years. That's almost as long as long as he's been alive. Because he's never had that."

"Teresa and his family were good to him. Emily also. There must have been others."

"But Emily died. And Teresa was forced to give him up. He doesn't know what it is to be safe. To be loved for what he is, no matter what. To make mistakes and to be forgiven for them. So, he's not a toddler that we can raise to like porridge and enjoy modern art, but we can still love him and that's what makes a real family."

"I do love him," Tessa pressed her lips together. "How could I not?"

"Tell me." Duncan encouraged.

She smiled slightly. "When you must face a challenge, he is so sweet, he will make he watch a film, or find some other distraction, asking such questions that I can't help but laugh. It does not ease the worry, but it makes the time pass more quickly. When that gallery curator was so rude, he convinced me that my art was worthwhile and I should not give up. He made me ring the gallery director and arrange to show him my work, which he loved! "

"Could a toddler do that?" Duncan nudged. "Besides, Tess, think how dangerous it would be to bring an infant into our lives. I, for one, thank God everyday, that Richie, at least, has some idea to take care of himself."

"And us?" Tessa arched a brow.

"Isn't that what a family does?" Duncan nuzzled her close, please to see a glimmer of her normal self. "Look out for each other?"

"And, how exactly, does Richie take care of you?"

"He reminds me what it is to be young and new," Duncan said a trifle wistfully. "And, he doesn't hesitate to tell me that I'm full of crap, when he thinks it."

"Duncan!" Tessa protested, leaning back against his strength.

"I have been smothering him, haven't I?" she asked, after a moment.

"A little," Duncan acknowledged. "Don't get me wrong, he still needs guidance. He's not yet quite as old as he thinks he is. But he's not our little boy, either. We need to lead him to make his own choices. Not just expect him to follow ours."

"If he will forgive me." Tessa said, unhappily.

Duncan looked up as the phone started to ring.

"That'll be Richie."

He surged to his feet, anxious to take the call before the machine cut in.

"Hello?"

"Mac?" Richie didn't give him a chance to reply. "Look, we're done here, but its kinda late. I don't feel right about asking Gary to drive across town at this time of night so I'm just gonna crash at his place tonight, OK?"

"Rich ..." Duncan began.

"I'm fine Mac, it was just a couple of stitches. No biggie. Anyway, I'll talk to you tomorrow. G'night."

"Richie .." Duncan found himself staring dumbly at the receiver as the teen hung up.


	9. Disclosures part two

AN – Its very late and I'm very tired so I'll just save time and apologise now for any typos etc – but I figured some update was better than no update!

***

Duncan had tried to tell himself that nothing was wrong. After all, it was hardly the first time that Richie had rung to say he was staying over at a friend's house. And when he'd told her, he'd gone out of his way to reassure Tessa that the Hospital had given Richie a clean bill of health, so the relief in her eyes had simply been because he was okay, nothing else. It didn't mean anything was wrong.

Except, something wasn't right.

"He'll be home in the morning." He'd stressed, as much to reassure himself as anything.

But now, as he lay here, staring up at the shadows on the ceiling, he realised that Richie hadn't said that at all. _I'll talk to you tomorrow. _What exactly did that mean? Did it mean that Richie was just going to phone again? This time, perhaps from another, undisclosed, location? Duncan's chest tightened, what if all the lad wanted to talk about was retrieving, or worse, sending on, his few meagre possessions? Tessa was right, they had no "legal" hold over him anymore, no matter that he had just turned 17, as far as the authorities were concerned he was a free agent.

Looking over at Tessa, he saw that she was sleeping soundly. Briefly, he considered waking her, but he worried that she was far more affected by the gang's attack than she cared to admit. Shock affected people in different ways and her behaviour tonight had certainly  been .. odd.

Sighing, he finally gave up on sleep for the time being and slipped out from under the covers, careful not to wake Tessa. Pulling on sweat pants and an old sweater. he pulled his trainers out from the bottom of the wardrobe and took them and his sword into the Kitchen. Laying the Katana down on the counter he stood on first one leg and then the other to put on his trainers. Just in case Tessa woke, he scribbled a quick note before taking a moment to ensure that it was safely out of sight, and then let himself out into the night.

Upstairs, Tessa waited until she was certain he had left, before she gave up on feigning sleep and opened her eyes.

***

Duncan chose to walk the few blocks to the abandoned warehouse. He hoped that the crisp, night air, might help to clear his head and start to put his thoughts in some coherent order. But his emotions churned in his chest, evoking an age old adrenalin to fight. He'd tried to explain it to Tessa once, the total calm that came when you were one with the blade and she'd tried to capture it in her drawings, the artist in her saw the beauty in the form, but the sketches were all about the physical being, the grace, the energy, not the inner peace in that perfect mesh of mind and movement.

He figured he was too distracted to reach perfection tonight. But at least the physical activity might help him sleep.

He slowed his steps slightly, as he approached the warehouse. It never hurt to be cautious. Not that there was anything here to steal, but the isolated location and basic shelter, sometimes made it an attractive place for drug deals or other illicit activities. And, although, it was a little off the beaten track, occasionally he saw signs, a fire, some garbage, that it had been used by the homeless. He'd got into the habit of checking that the place really was deserted, before flashing his sword about, just in case.

Yet, even as he pulled out his pocket torch, he didn't really expect to find anyone.

So, the faint buzz of a pre-immortal from underneath a pile of cardboard and newspaper in the far left hand corner came as something of a surprise.

"Oh, great," Duncan muttered in Gaelic. "Just bloody, great."

Not at all in the mood to deal with this right now, he briefly considered just letting whoever it was sleep on. But his conscious and his compassion got the better of him. Who knew when their paths might cross again? He ought, at least to find something out about the person and arrange things so they'd have someone to go to when their time came. Besides, the night air was bitter cold, he couldn't just leave them here, they'd like as not freeze to death. Slipping his sword out of sight, he squatted down beside the makeshift shelter.

In that instant, a foot kicked out from under the pile, catching him painfully on the ankle and causing him to fall back onto his butt, grazing all his knuckles as his hand clenched instinctively around the torch, before his brain remembered it wasn't the Katana. In the half light, a figure erupted from under the cardboard, throwing dirt at his face, which Duncan easily dodged, as the figure turned, clearly intent on taking to its heels as fast as it could in the opposite direction

"Oh, no, you don't." Duncan promised himself.

Using his prone position to his advantage, Duncan reached out to curl his hand around the ankle closet to him, and pulled sharply, causing them to loose their balance and fall back, harmlessly, onto the pile of cardboard.

At once, the figure started to buck and try to kick him away and he was forced to crawl a little further up the body before they did themselves an injury..

"Will you stop that?, I'm not going to hurt you." He managed, through gritted teeth.

"Get your fucking hands off me!"

Even distorted by terror, Duncan knew that voice.

"Richie."

The figure beneath him went completely still.

"Mac?"

"Oh, for Lord's sake .." Duncan shifted his weight off the teen and pulled him to his feet. "What in God's name are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here?" Richie erupted, backing away from him. "What the hell were you doing?"

"Trying to_ talk_ to you. What did you think I was trying to do?"

"Well, you sure as hell weren't bringing me flowers and buying me dinner!" Richie challenged, turning away so the Immortal wouldn't see him loose it. Pinned to the ground, he had been terrified, utterly helpless to prevent what he had been certain was coming next.

"Sorry," Duncan quipped flatly. "You're not my type."

"How the hell was I supposed to know it was you?" Richie challenged.

"Oh, I don't know, because I spoke to you, perhaps?"

"Maybe, if you'd done it in English, or some other language I actually speak."

"Oh," Duncan paused. "Gaelic," he offered, by way of apology.

"Figures." Richie gave him a small smile in return.

There was an awkward silence as they both looked at one another.

"And here was I thinking you didn't like camping."

"Mac.." Richie began.

"Not here Rich," Duncan cut him off. They were cold and tired and this was not the place to get into .. whatever this was.

"I'm not coming home."

"Fair enough. Its your choice."

"It is?" Richie blinked, he hadn't thought it would be that easy.

"Sure," Duncan playing his torch over the cut. It was pretty dirty and one corner had cracked open where Richie had scraped his face along the ground. But thankfully, the stitches themselves had held. "We can always go back to the Hospital."

Of course. Richie realised. It wouldn't be that easy. His life never was. "Its bleeding again, huh?"

"Can't you tell?" Duncan frowned.

"Its been hurting some." Richie admitted, uncomfortably.

"Did they give you a shot?"

"Two," Richie rolled his eyes.

"Two, huh?" Duncan commiserated.

"Antibiotics and Tetanus. Oh, and some cream to put on it."

"Have you eaten anything since lunchtime?"

"Is this another one of those "a packet of fruit gums does not constitute actual fruit," things?"

"I'll take that as a no." Duncan decided

***

The closer they got to the loft the edgier Richie became. Duncan pretended not to notice when he started walking more slowly, or when he deliberately moved into the shadows cast by the streetlights. But finally enough was enough.

"There's no-one there."

"Huh?"

"That's the fourth time you've looked behind you in the last 30 seconds. There's no-one there."

"You can't be sure." Richie hedged.

"I can. I am," Duncan fished, his key out of his pocket and let them both into the loft, pushing Richie ahead of him. "Four hundred years worth of sure."

He led the way through the apartment and into the kitchen.

"Well, Night Mac .." Richie turned towards his room.

"Hold on." Duncan's voice stopped him.

"Aw. C'mon Mac," Richie sounded unusually defeated. "Its been a really long day."

"Humour me." Duncan nodded at the chair.

Richie sighed, but dragged himself over to the chair.

Instead of the lecture he was expecting, the Immortal, cleaned out his cut with a deft, sure, touch, pressed a cup of hot, sweet, tea, into his hands and presented him with a cheese and mushroom omelette, which managed to be both light but filling. 

"You're doing it again." Richie protested, around a mouthful.

"Talking with my mouth full?" 

Richie rolled his eyes, but swallowed before responding.

"Being nice to me, when you should be mad."

"Look, Rich, if this is about tonight .. Tessa told me what happened."

"She did?" Richie blinked.

"Yeah. You did a good job looking out for her. I'm proud of you, Tough Guy." He reached over and mussed his hair.

"Yeah, I lie and steal real good," Richie said bitterly. "You guys outta have a kid you can be proud of, for going to College or something."

"We can still have that." Duncan said easily.

"Oh." Richie blushed.

"So," Duncan took a sip of his tea. "You want to tell me what were you planning on doing when Vinnie and his goons caught up with you?"

He hadn't been entirely certain. But Richie's stricken look confirmed it.

"I was kinda hoping they wouldn't find me." Richie admitted.

"Have they threatened you?"

"One of them came to Gary's house," Richie nodded. "He said Vin was real mad, cos I'd humiliated him in front of his gang and he was gonna come after me. Gary wanted me to stay, but I was afraid that would make Vin come after him too, so I spilt."

"And you couldn't go to Angie or the others, because that would put them in danger." Duncan nodded. That, at least, made sense.

"That's when I thought of Connor. I figured if I went to New York for a while the whole thing would die down. No harm done ..."

He trailed off at the look on the Immortal's face.

"You were planning on staying at the Warehouse until Friday?" Duncan said dangerously.

"Its inside. Kinda. Besides, what else was I gonna do?"

"You could have come home. Where you belong."

"C'mon Mac, what if Vinnie follows me here? It would be easy enough to trace a car like that. How many times have you told me you don't need to be worrying about me and Tess," He looked down and then away. "I didn't want you to have to make that choice."


	10. The other shoe drops

Duncan sighed. This was his fault. How many times had he said to Richie, _Stay here, I don't want to be worrying about you and Tessa. Stay here, look after Tessa for me. _He'd only wanted to make sure the lad was safe. Lord knows, he'd never a care for himself. He'd never meant that Richie should think Tessa's welfare was more the important to him.

"I don't want to make that choice either, Tough Guy," Duncan reached out to cup his chin. "For there would be naught to choose between you."

"Aw, c'mon Mac," Richie jerked his chin out of Duncan's grasp, rejecting the sentiment. "You've known me a few weeks. You've known Tess .. what? Twelve Years? Its human nature."

Duncan mentally blessed the lad for giving him a way out.

"Human nature, huh?"

"Yeah," Richie nodded. "Its no biggie. Just the way it is, right?"

"Right," Duncan nodded, as if in agreement. "Did you know Mr and Mrs Gregson have just had their first grandchild?"

Richie looked relieved at the apparent change of subject. "Man, do I! She was in the other day. Couldn't stop talking about her. Had pictures and everything. Man, she was soo blown away. It was like she'd won the Lotto or something."

"Really?" Duncan arched a brow. "But he can't be more than a few weeks old .."

Richie looked at him. 

"You know, Macleod. Sometimes, you're a real bastard."

"Love you too." Duncan quirked a smile, rising to clear away their plates.

Richie opened his mouth. He wanted to. But he couldn't say it. Not here. Not now. Maybe, one day when Mac had rescued him from certain death in an Avalanche or something.

Hey, with his luck it was bound to happen, sooner or later.

Instead, he watched the Immortal as he pottered around the kitchen, washing up their plates and wiping down the surfaces, occasionally throwing that goofy fond smile over his shoulder as he worked. Had anyone ever loved him like this? Emily had loved him, but that was when he was five and cute and .. well, before. What would she have thought of all the things he had done? The same as Tessa, probably. Richie bit his lip hard, hardly noticing the mug of hot chocolate that Duncan put in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Duncan asked, sliding back into his seat with his own mug.

"Have you ever wished you were someone else?"

"Sometimes," Duncan looked wistful for a moment, as he thought of a time when he had been going about his business, only to catch sight of a man, whose eyes shone with love as he looked into the face of his beloved, catching her up and kissing her deeply, only to be interrupted by some little imp of a lad, demanding that his Da come see this. God, how he had wanted that. He smiled at Richie. "Not any more."

"Maybe if I had four hundred years to practice I'd get it right too." Richie sighed.

"You're not doing so bad." Duncan assured him, taking a drink. "Most of the time."

"Look, Mac, about tonight," Richie shifted slightly in his seat. "If it was just you .. I'd trust you with my life .. Hell I'd trust you with it more than I'd trust me."

"Me, too." Duncan rolled his eyes.

"Its just .. Vinnie's real bad news, y'know?"

Duncan had guessed as much. He hadn't seen Richie this rattled since that night at the Police Station. Still, it was time the lad learnt he didn't have to fight all his own battles.

"That reminds me." Pulling out his wallet, Duncan counted out several one hundred dollar bills onto the kitchen table.

"You know, you really shouldn't carry that much cash in your wallet," Richie commented. "What if you got mugged?"

Duncan glanced sideways at him.

"Sorry," Richie grinned. "Forget I said anything."

"Here." Duncan pushed the money across the table towards him.

Richie eyed the pile of cash uneasily.

"What's that for?" Richie asked.

"It's how much Tessa's bracelet cost."

"Mac, I don't want your money."

"Neither do I," Duncan shook his head. " Not at that price." He nodded at the knife cut on Richie's face.

"I wasn't going to let him just take it." Richie insisted.

"But you'll piss him off and put your life in danger? For what? For this?" 

"It's a lot of money." Richie said unhappily.

Duncan's chair scraped as he pushed it violently back across the floor. Surging to his feet he picked up the metal bowl, used for depositing odds and ends and dumped its contents onto the counter. Rummaging in a drawer he found one of Tessa's lighters and brought both items back to the table.

"Mac? What are you doing?"

"Watch," Duncan put the money into the bowl, and held the lighter to the corner of one of the hundred dollar bills. In seconds all the bills were ablaze, Richie sat open mouthed, as the small fire burnt bright orange before it died to sooty ashes. "Look at it now," Duncan shoved the bowl under his nose. "Would you risk your life for that?"

"I cannot believe you did that!" Richie protested. "There must have been six hundred dollars there."

"Seven, but who's counting?" 

"You're nuts. You know that, right?"

"Richie, _this_ is nothing. Its just a tool. A commodity. It has no real value."

"Tell that to the people who don't got any."

"I know," Duncan acknowledged. "And I know how hard this is for you to understand, but I don't care about the money. I do care about you."

"Tessa, loves that bracelet." Richie muttered, ducking his head. 

Duncan dipped his own head, so he could catch the teenagers eye. "She loves you more."

It didn't get the reaction he was expecting.

"Look, Mac. If you and Tessa want a kid so bad. Maybe, you should just go and get one from the Orphanage."

"Richie, .." Duncan almost choked on his drink. " You make it sound like getting a puppy from the pound."

"I'm serious, Mac. Look, it won't change anything between us. I can still work here. We can still hang out. All that good stuff," Richie looked away. "But .. Tessa could have the kid she wants."

Duncan stilled. The echo of Tessa's earlier sentiments too strong for him to ignore.

"What makes you think you're not the kid she wants?"

"What do they call that thing when two galaxies crash into one other and leave behind a great big nothing?"

"You mean like a Black Hole?"

"I guess." Richie nodded. "Maybe, in some alternative universe, where you guys found me right after Emily died I could have been the little boy she wants, she could have picked out my clothes, cut my hair, given me piano lessons and turned me into little Lord Fauntleroy …"

"What are you most afraid of Rich? That she wants to be your Mom? Or that she doesn't?"

"My Mom died, Mac. Emily died. And the little boy I was, died right there with her. I haven't been that little boy for a long time Mac. Tessa just didn't want to see it before."

Duncan had to acknowledge that was probably true. Tessa had been quick to see that Richie needed a home and a family, but she had been apt to treat him like a much younger child. Her memories of the scared, vulnerable, boy facing Duncan's sword that night in the Store, overriding the fact that he had had the skills and audacity to break in, in the first place.

Still.

"Neither did you."

"What?"

"Think about it Rich. You wear the clothes she buys you. You eat the food she cooks you. You watch black and white films – in French - just because she watched them with her folks when she was a child …."

"So, maybe I wanted something more," Richie admitted. "I wanted to feel like I belonged here. Like, we were a family, .. kinda. Don't get me wrong, Mac. I think Tess is great, more than great. But I can't be the kind of kid she wants me to be."

"You do belong here. And we are a family .." Duncan insisted. Or at least he hoped so. "It just .. takes a little time. We all have to make adjustments."

"Mac, she thinks I'm still a virgin. It's a bit too late to adjust that." Richie scoffed.

"I'll talk to her." Duncan promised.

"Won't do any good." Richie shook his head.

"You let me worry about that," Duncan scolded, lightly, collecting up their dirty mugs. "You get off to bed."

"Alright," Richie dragged himself to his feet. "I guess your reflexes are better than mine, huh?"

Duncan stilled. Surely not.

"What?"

"Sorry," Richie hastily backtracked. "Bad joke. I'll .. um .. hit the sack," He flinched at the poor choice of words. "Um. I mean .."

"Tessa hit you?" Duncan was aghast.

Richie looked at him in equal astonishment.

"I thought you said you guys talked."

"We dinna talk about that."

"Oh shit. Look, Mac. Forget I said anything."

"Richie, if you tell me you deserved it, I swear .."

"Tessa figured I deserved it." Richie said, a trifle resentfully.

"I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it. She's probably feeling really guilty about it."

"I just .. I need to know where I stand, Mac. You know?" 

"Rich," Duncan swallowed hard. There was so much he wanted to say. But first he needed to talk to Tess. Instead, he reached over and gave the lad a quick, hard, hug. Trying to provide in his actions the reassurance he couldn't give in words. "Don't forget to brush your teeth, alright?"

Richie gave him a smile.

"Sure. Night, Mac."

"Sleep Well, Tough Guy."

He waited until the teenager was safely in his room, before making his way down the corridor to the bedroom he shared with Tessa, closing the door behind him. 


	11. Resolution part one

AN – Thanks so much for reviewing. Um. Two more chapters I think. And hopefully all your questions will be answered! Sorry to anyone who read the first version of this and found the scence changes confusing. FF.net's oh so wonderful new quick edit edited out all my asterisks!

!!!

Duncan was surprised to find that Tessa was not only awake but fully dressed and sitting at her vanity table, applying her make-up. It was still dark out, but looking at the clock he saw it was already 6.30 am. Still, it was early for Tessa to be up. Especially, when she looked so tired and drawn.

"Couldn't sleep?" he asked lightly.

"I have a busy day today," she didn't look at him. "I have to finish that piece for the Bank's foyer, I must re-arrange the meeting with that journalist and someone will need to watch the Store, for who knows when Richie will decide to return from this Gary's."

"He wasn't at Gary's. I found him sleeping rough in the Warehouse."

Duncan said it straight out, waiting for her reaction. She looked up at him, reading nothing in his face. But she had lived with this man for over a decade.

"He has told you."

"That you hit him? Yes."

"He used this word? Hit?" Tessa said unhappily.

"What would you call it?"

"I slapped him rather hard," Tessa admitted. "I did not mean to. I was scared and upset and .."

"You don't think he was scared?" Duncan challenged.

"I do not think he was as scared as I was," Tessa retorted. "He knew what to do. How to deal with this Vinnie. I could do nothing."

"You hit him because of your pride?"

"Of course not," Tessa denied. "Oh, I do not know why I hit him. I just .."

"Lost your temper?"

Tessa pressed her lips together tightly. But could not deny it.

"Is he very angry at me?" she asked quietly.

"Tess, he's not angry at all. He's upset and a little hurt but mostly he's just feeling lost and unloved."

"I do love him," Tessa affirmed. "How could I not? He has brought so much into our lives and he has had so little love in his life"

"But?" Duncan prompted.

"He is not a little child, Duncan. And I am not so much older than him. Perhaps I am wrong to think I can be a mother to him."

"Perhaps," Duncan agreed. He grinned tightly at her shocked look. "But that doesn't mean we can't be a family."

"Duncan, what re you thinking?"

"I'm thinking, that the first thing you have to do is make your peace with Richie."

"He will not speak with me." Tessa shook her head.

"No."

"Duncan, I have not even asked you yet."

"The answer's still no Tess. You got yourself into this. You have to sort it out. But .. I will help."

!!!

Tessa paced across the kitchen, taking occasionally puffs from her cigarette. A sure sign that she was nervous.

"The shower stopped five minutes ago. Surely he should be out by now?"

"Give him a minute." Duncan spoke calmly from the stove.

"A minute!" Tessa protested. "Already, you have let him sleep past noon!"

"He needed the rest." Duncan started dishing up.

"I just cannot stand this waiting," Tessa admitted, grinding her cigarette out hastily into an ashtray, when she heard Richie's door open. "He's coming."

Richie emerged hesitantly into the kitchen, his hair – usually left damp from the shower for which Tessa would fondly scold him – carefully dried. Instead of his usual jeans and a long sleeved T, he was wearing the dark pants and cotton print shirt that Tessa had bought him to wear in the store. It was as if he had deliberately tried to be as inoffensive as possible.

Which no doubt he had.

"Hey, Rich," Duncan greeted him, when it clear Tessa wasn't going to speak. "Grab a plate."

"Thanks," Richie flashed him a smile, which faded as he looked down at his plate. "Steak?"

"Something wrong?" Duncan asked.

"No," Richie lied as they all took their places at the table. He cut half heartedly into his steak. "This is fine."

"I thought you liked steak."

"I do," Richie put his knife and fork down. "But you guys don't have to do this."

"Do what?" Tessa asked.

"Steak? On a weekday lunch time?" Richie shook his head. "I've been down this road too many times before. People always think they're breaking it to you gently, but it happens enough times you get to read the signs. First the nice meal, then the bad news. If you guys want me out you just have to say."

"Richie, no!" Tessa protested.

"No?" Richie cocked his head at her.

"Absolutely not," Tessa affirmed, his casual acceptance that they would just throw him out like so much garbage giving her the courage to speak up. "Richie, I am so sorry that I hit you, I was scared and upset, but it was wrong of me. Especially, because the reason I was so angry was because you were right."

"I was? About what?"

"Everything." Tessa said simply. "We should never have taken that short cut .. I certainly should have put gas in the car .. and stopping at the light was, what do you call it ..? A rookie mistake."

"You weren't to know," Richie dismissed that. "How could you? Your folks probably went outta their way to avoid neighbourhoods like mine."

"If they had any sense." Duncan murmured.

Richie scowled at him.

"What? No one chooses to live in poverty or crime. Not even you."

"Wasn't like I had much choice."

"Well, you do now," Tessa told him firmly. "Your home is here with us."

"Tess, you don't gotta say that," Richie shook his head. "I'm 18. I can move out .. get a place .."

"Awpuf, 17." Duncan said over a 'cough'.

"Yes, _alright_," Richie cast a sour glance his way. "Its still plenty old enough to be making my own bed and washing my own undies."

"Then why don't you?" Duncan grinned.

"Mac, you're not helping."

"Yes, Duncan, this is serious."

"You know," Duncan looked at Richie. "Your problem is you watch far too much TV. He looked at Tessa. "And you don't watch nearly enough."

"What? You want we should fix this by going on Oprah or something?" Richie asked.

"What is Oprah?" Tessa wanted to know.

"My point exactly." Duncan said smugly.

!!!

"You know, if I was really trying for the perfect sitcom family, like Mac said, the sofa is in entirely the wrong place." Richie groused, as he helped to clear the table.

"It is?" Tessa glanced over towards the living room. "The floral one or the plain one?"

"Never mind." Richie shook his head.

"Still, Duncan had a point, it was naive of me to think that all families must be a Mother, and a Father with their child. There are so many blended families now and the new partner does not always seek to take on the role of Mother or Father. They make their own roles."

"Yeah, I mean, I know Emily is dead and all .." Richie said quietly.

"But in your heart, she will always be your Mother," Tessa agreed softly. "But that does not mean that I cannot love you, also."

"You sure?" Richie gave her a sideways glance. "Cos, I know how much you want a kid of your own to raise."

"And perhaps, I will have that one day," Tessa was philosophical. "And if I do, you'll be first in the line for diaper duty – Uncle Richie."

"Uncle Richie? Cool," He grinned shyly. "Hey, I can do diapers."

"You can?" Tessa was surprised.

"Sure," Richie shrugged. "There were always lots of little kids around when I was growing up."

"Good. Then you will be able to teach me." Tessa admitted.

"You've never changed a diaper?" Richie's jaw dropped. "You know, Tess. Maybe you'd be better off with a puppy."

"What!"

"I'm serious. You know, there are some really cute puppies out there."

"Its hardly the same!" Tessa laughed.

"Of course its not. That's the idea.  And they'll never grow up to talk back, or let you down, or get arrested .." Richie stopped.

"Actually," Tessa began. "There is something I've been meaning to ask you about all of that?"

Richie looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"Yeah?"

"This thing that you can do to start the car, without any keys?"

"Hot wiring?"

"If that is what it is called," Tessa nodded. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

"Tessa!"

"I think it is a very sensible precaution. It would come in very useful when I lose my keys," Tessa said with a lofty look, that belied the wicked twinkle in her eyes..

"You know," Richie grinned. "It's a good job that Mac's Immortal, if this is the way things are gonna be from now on."

"He was the one who told us to stop trying to live up to each others expectations and just be ourselves," Tessa shrugged. "He has only himself to blame."

"Don't you ever get sick of him being older and wiser all the time?"

"Pass me that platter will you?" Tessa pushed her hair back. "In a word? Yes."

Then she smiled.

"But it does have its compensations."

"Ugh, please. Don't even go there. I'm getting mental pictures."

"I would not think you would need them after that time when you .."

"Yes, alright. I thought we all agreed to forget all about that."

Tessa sobered.

"Some things are hard to forget .. and forgive."

"Tess," Richie rolled his eyes. "It was just a slap. It didn't even hurt that much."

"It bled."

"Only cos of before." Richie shrugged.

"And that was also my fault," Tessa worried. "You would have fought Vinnie if I had not been so foolish as to wear that bracelet so casually."

"Ah." Richie busied himself, scrubbing some of the tougher stains off the frying pan.

"Ah?" Tessa questioned.

"Truth?"

"Always."

"Only, I already had the "how could ye be so foolish laddie to risk yerself for a mere bauble," lecture from Mac, over this. I don't need another one."

"This will be just between us." Tessa promised.

"Vinnie's a bully. But he doesn't really have any moves of his own. He survives on his rep and getting his gang to scare the life outta people. I knew that if I could take one clear pop at him, I could take him out easy."

"You wished to fight him?"

"Call it a community service. Folks get to hear about it, other people will realise that's all he is – a rep." At least Richie hoped so, maybe that way Vinnie's gang would lose interest in turning him into fish bait or road kill or whatever.

"Richie!"

"Nuh-uh, you promised. No telling dear ole Dad."

"You know, Duncan would burst with pride to hear you call him that." Tessa said softly.

"Maybe." Richie's cheeks tinged with pink.

"Just between us?" Tessa asked.

"Yeah?"

"He has bought you a birthday card that says "To the best son in the world." but he is too shy to give it to you. He is afraid of your reaction."

"Oh," Richie swallowed hard. "I .."

They both turned as Duncan came into the room, his sword drawn and his face serious.

"Oh, no," Richie said. "I know that look."

"An Immortal?" Tessa worried.

"One who apparently doesn't bother to knock," Duncan shifted the sword to his other hand and went to stand in front of Tessa and Richie. "And knows how to bypass the alarm." Part of him hoped it might only be Amanda. It was the kind of behaviour he would expect from her. The other part of him fervently hoped it was not. He didn't think either Tessa or Richie were ready for that yet. He knew he wasn't.

All three of them turned to look as the intruder entered the room.

"Have I come at a bad time?" Connor asked.


	12. Resolution part two

AN – Sorry for the slow update. I've been ill! Thanks to SC for constructive listening (I've changed it again!). To answer your Q's - Yellow valley, don't worry the Birthday card will reappear! Sweets2 the gang will get theirs soon enough. Lori – I never said Connor was planning on coming – but then I never said he wasn't either (grins) Dani thank you for the lovely review and there is another reason for Connor to be there so its not entirely a wasted journey and Laura I have lots more stories but I can only cope with one at a time!! Neoinean, hope the divider things work this time!

!!!!!!!!!!!

"Connor!" Duncan's relief rapidly gave way to mounting anger as he advanced on his elder kinsman. "Have you taken leave of your senses?"

"Don't you ever just say hello, anymore?" Connor wondered.

"Don't you ever use the dammed door?"

Connor was about to point out that he had used the door, he simply hadn't knocked, when he realized that whereas Tessa merely looked startled, the boy looked scared out of his wits and Duncan was positively furious.

"Expecting trouble?"

"Not you." Duncan said flatly.

"Then .." Connor eyed the still drawn and ready katana warily. "Would you mind?"

"Oh," Duncan realised. He lowered his sword arm. "Sorry."

"One of us?" Connor asked.

"Hope not." Duncan quipped, as he stowed the katana. Instantly regretting his words as a look of shocked terror flashed across Richie's face.

"But he can't be!" the lad blurted. "I mean, I know him. We grew up in the same neighbourhood. Vinnie was only a couple of years above me in school."

"Rich," Duncan really didn't want to be having the conversation about how no one was born Immortal, right here and now. The lad had enough to worry about. Besides, it might give him ideas. Entirely the right ones at that. A distraction was definitely in order. "Go down and fetch Connor's bags will you?"

"What, am I? The bellboy?" Richie shot back, with an edge of sarcasm, that Duncan now recognised as fear driven.

"Rich, c'mon," Duncan refused to be baited. "He's not gonna be Immortal. What are the odds?"

"Well, I dunno, where you're concerned, pretty high."

"Not every new person I meet _has_ to be an Immortal."

"Of course not," Tessa agreed dryly. "It just seems as if they are. That is all."

"You're not helping," Duncan scowled. "Rich, everything will be fine. Trust me." He dropped a quick kiss on lad's forehead, making his eyes widen with surprise. "Now go." He ordered.

"Right. Sure," Richie nodded, blushing a brick red, but completely distracted from his previous line of questioning by the public display of affection. "Bags. OK. I'm on it."

As soon as he was out of earshot, Tessa hissed. "Vinnie? It was this Vinnie you were expecting? Is he an Immortal?"

"Yes. No, I don't know, Tess."

"You don't know if he is Immortal or if he is to come here causing trouble?"

"He threatened Richie," Duncan admitted. "That's why he was sleeping rough in the warehouse. That's why he wanted to come to New York."

"He didn't trust you to protect him?" Connor worried. "Duncan that's .."

"He was afraid that Vinnie might use Tessa to get to him. He didn't want me to have to chose. Look, we've talked about it. He's fine now. He's still here isn't he?" Duncan felt a tad defensive.

"And Vinnie?" Tessa challenged. "Will he be joining us also?"

"He may not follow up on the threat .."

"You don't know this .." Tessa's voice rose.

"Perhaps," Connor put in. "I should put the kettle on."

"I think, I need something stronger." Duncan muttered.

"And I think you need your wits about you, laddie." Connor reproved, reaching for the tea kettle. "We need to come up with a battle plan."

"Why can't we just call the Police?" Tessa asked. "There are laws against threatening people!"

"Won't do any good," Richie told her, overhearing as he brought Connor's two bags into the kitchen. "They haven't actually done anything yet. Not that we can prove."

"When did you graduate law school?" Tessa teased.

"I know which charges will stick." Richie shrugged.

"Care to enlighten us?" Connor murmured.

Richie gave him a sour look. "Murder is always good."

"I don't think we need to do anything that drastic." Duncan rolled his eyes.

"But maybe, we should pay this Vinnie a visit," Connor speculated.

"You want to go looking for him?" Richie gawped. "Are you absolutely insane?"

"Freud didn't think so."

"You've never met Freud." Duncan put in.

"I read the book," Connor dismissed that. "Its an established battle tactic. You take the fight to your enemy, you choose the time, the ground and the weapons, you have the advantage."

"Connor .." Duncan couldn't fault the argument. But he wasn't sure it was a tactic he wanted a lad as impetuous as Richie to learn. Lord knows he was already going to have the devils own time convincing the lad that it was acceptable to walk away from challenges. The last thing he needed was for him to think he had to seize the initiative.

"How long do you want us to wait for them to make their move Duncan? A week? A month? A year? If we draw them out, we can deal with them, here and now, on our own terms."

"Using Richie as the bait?" Duncan shook his head. "I'll not have it, Connor."

"I'll be close by. He'll be perfectly safe."

"You don't know that," Duncan shook his head. "What if something goes wrong?"

"It won't. Because he's going to offer them something they'll want even more than him."

Duncan pressed his lips together. It could work. All Richie would have to do would act a little nervous, offer them the code to the Antique Store alarm, let them think that the proprietor would be away, maybe even suggest that Tessa would be all alone and vulnerable in the apartment above. Vinnie sounded like just the type to expect the lad to sacrifice his friends to save his own skin.

But that still didn't mean that  Richie would be safe.

"I don't like it Connor," Duncan scrubbed at his face.

"Isn't anyone gonna ask me what I think?" Richie spoke up.

"You can't tell me you like this, Rich."

"Well, I sure don't want to be looking over my shoulder for who knows how long. I can do this, Mac."

Duncan looked at the teen's serious expression. He had a point.  "You know, its dangerous?"

"No more dangerous than plenty of other things I've done. C'mon Mac. Trust _me. _How am I ever gonna get to show you I can act responsible if you're always trying to protect me?"

Alright," he capitulated. "But if we're doing this, I'm coming with you." He looked at Connor. "You can stay with Tessa. And, we're going to take a few precautions."

!!!!

Following Richie's directions Duncan steered the T-Bird over to a playground on the other side of town, where Vinnie and his gang held rule. At this time in the early evening it was just beginning to get dark, the shadows from the surrounding buildings reaching their tendrils across the concrete. Duncan parked in an alleyway, from which they could watch the playground, but remain out of sight. Despite his earlier assurances the jiggling of his left leg, betrayed his nervousness.

"They're not here."

"Give them a minute." Duncan said calmly.

Richie gave them all of about 20 seconds.

"I guess they're not coming. Maybe, we should just leave."

"We only just got here."

"If we leave now there's still time to meet Connor and Tess at the Restaurant .."

"Rich .."

"They all probably went off to a movie or something, ..Vinne likes Rambo .." Richie was rambling.

"Alright," Duncan reached towards the ignition, only to have Richie's hand clamp over his wrist.

"No, Its Ok, I'm OK. It'll be fine. Its just .. the waiting, its hard, you know?"

Duncan did.

"They'll be here." He soothed.

Subsiding, for the moment, Richie slumped back into his seat. Catching sight of his reflection, he fiddled with the wing mirror. Then he rummaged in the glove box, but finding nothing of interest, he picked up the pencil that was lying on the dash and started to beat a one handed rhythm.

 "You're pretty good at that." Duncan noted, hoping to distract him.

"Not good enough." Richie dropped the pencil back down on the dash.

"Good enough for what?"

"To get out of here. Well, not here and now, you know, like with you guys. But Seacouver, here."

"You mean like a band?" Duncan couldn't help but be surprised.

"Yeah, ain't that a joke. Richie Ryan international pop star," Richie shook his head. "It was Cass's idea .. she said we'd be like those bands on MTV." he trailed off.

"Cass?" Duncan nudged him gently. "Anyone I know? Anyone you know?"

"Old friend," Richie sucked in his cheeks. "She's dead now."

"I'm sorry," Duncan said sincerely. "I know how hard it is to loose a good friend."

"Yeah," Richie gave him a sideways look. "I guess you would. Its OK. It doesn't hurt as much as it used to."

"But it still hurts."

"Yeah," Richie agreed. "Sometimes, like today when you wonder .. if just maybe things could have been different."

"Maybe they will be .. one day." Duncan offered.

"Yeah, and maybe I'll grow up to be Immortal." Richie joked.

"Rich, nothing in the future is set in stone. You can't write yourself off at your age. If you really want to be the next Phil Collins, let's get you signed up for a few lessons."

"Phil Collins is a singer, not a drummer." Richie protested.

"Shows what you know." Duncan grinned.

!!!

"They're here." Duncan's voice startled Richie out of a light doze. Abruptly, he sat up and scrubbed at his face, glancing guilty over at the Immortal to see if he had noticed his lapse. "They are? Where?"

If he had seen that the lad had dozed off, Duncan gave no sign of it.

"To your right. Just coming around the corner."

Richie sat forward and craned his neck, letting his eyes adjust to the shadows and light cast by the streetlamps.

"That's Vinnie. In the middle with the blue sweat top on."

"C'mon."

Duncan slipped silently out of the T-Bird and walked to the back of the car. He turned his gaze to the anxious teen standing beside him. In the streetlamps, Richie's eyes looked very young and blue in his pale face.

"You know what to do?"

"Mac, we've been over this about a thousand times. I can do this."

"I know you can, Rich. Its just, I worry, that's all."

"You and Tess both," Richie rolled his eyes. "She wanted me to wear some bit of armour from the middles ages. It weighed like a tonne."

"I know. Who do you think talked her out of it. In an emergency you'd never be able to move fast enough in a thing like that."

"Well, thanks for that vote of confidence, Mac."

"Rich, I have every confidence in you," Duncan popped open the trunk. "Its them, I worry about. Take off your shirt."

Richie looked in astonishment at the super thin top of the range black Teflon coated vest.

"You bought me a bullet proof vest?"

"It stops knifes too." Duncan informed him. "You didn't think I was just going to let you walk out there, did you?"

"Well, yeah," Richie said, removing his shirt. "Usually, I just duck and run."

"Usually?" Duncan frowned as he fitted the jacket snugly. "Have you been stabbed before?"

"No, I've just had a lot of practise at ducking."

"OK, you're all set," Duncan allowed, as he slipped the teen's shirt back around his shoulders and started to do up the buttons, talking as he did so.

"Stick to what we planned. Don't improvise."

"Yes sir." Richie tried a sloppy salute.

 "I mean it, Rich. I'll be close by. Any problems. Anything at all. You give me the signal and you're outta there. OK?"

"Yeah," Richie nodded, all business now. "C'mon Mac, can we just do this? Please?

"Alright, but for God's sake, be careful."

"Always am."

With a final squeeze of his shoulder, Duncan forced himself to let the teen go. Richie turned away, consciously adding a cocky swagger to his gait as he made his way across the playground. And all Duncan could do was watch as he approached the small knot of gang members squared up as they noticed his approach.


	13. Resolution part three

AN- Thanks for all the reviews, as ever, they encourage me to kepp writing. Neoinean, as you know its hard torturing Richie in ways that haven't been done before (the kid has such a hard time in fanfic!) but I aim to try. Sweets2 – that was a very good point you made about the kevar, I'm glad you picked up on that (grins) and Jodi – sorry it wasn't quite in time for your birthday, but I was out all weekend, but hey, here it is now. And for everyone who thinks there are still a few ends to tidy up, there are! One more chapter after this!

!!!

"Richie! Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" The second Duncan and Richie walked back through the door, Tessa was all over the teen.

"Tessa, I'm fine. It was like a walk in the park."

"Don't you dare joke about such things!" she scolded sharply.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean .."

"You could have been killed!" Rather to his surprise, she kissed him soundly. "Don't you know we could not bear to lose you?"

"Umgpf," Richie managed, as she hugged him. "I'm getting that."

"Come, you did not eat much dinner," Tessa declared. "So I have saved you some pizza and some pasta and there is garlic bread and I think I have some of those chocolate brownies that you like in the freezer."

"With the butterscotch sauce?" Richie's voice could be heard, asking hopefully, as she towed him towards the kitchen

"Of course."

Watching until they were out of earshot, Connor turned his attention to his kinsman. He waited, expectantly, for Duncan to speak. But the younger Immortal strode silently across the room and poured himself a shot of whiskey, downing it in one swallow, without doing his mentor the courtesy of offering him a glass.

"Something amiss?" Connor asked mildly.

"No," Duncan answered shortly, refilling his glass and downing that too. "The whole plan went like clockwork. Vinnie took the bait, they'll be here in three hours exactly as we planned."

"So this," Connor raised a brow as the third glass of Scotch made its way down the younger Highlander's throat. "Is because everything went well?"

"Do you have any idea of the things that could have gone wrong?" Duncan turned on him. "That vest only covered his chest. How long does it take to bleed to death from a ruptured artery? Of course, you might waste a few seconds deciding which one to cut, because there are so many to choose from, should you go for the throat, the left wrist, or maybe the right one? Not to mention the wide range of firepower that could go through that kelvar at point blank range. Oh, he might not have been killed instantly, it would have bought us some time, at least I would have got to see the betrayal in his eyes before he died."

"Duncan," Connor plucked the glass out of his student's hand and pushed him down on the couch. "Richie's fine."

"No thanks to either of us," Duncan shook his head. "It would only have taken one wrong word or one false move and I could have lost him tonight."

"I think," Connor sat down beside him on the couch. "You mean, we could have lost him."

Duncan didn't appear to have heard him.

"I should never have agreed to such foolishness. I should have known better."

"You knew enough to trust that Richie could do this. And he did, didn't he?"

"Oh aye," Duncan scrubbed at his face. "You should have seen him, Connor. Ach, he'd most likely die before he'd admit it, but I could tell he was scared afore hand, but when the moment was upon us, he stood his ground, said his piece and played his part as well as any battle hardened warrior holding fast the line. He did us proud, Connor."

"Have you told him that?"

"Not yet," Duncan shook his head. "And you needn't say it. I was too busy worrying about what might have been to think about what .."

The faint sound of breaking glass brought his head up sharply.

"Seems like our invited guests are a little early." Connor observed.

"They've got the bloody code, did they need to cost me another window?" Duncan complained, even as he surged ton his feet.

"You take care of the lad, and Tessa," Coonor decided. "I'll go and greet our guests."

!!!

"Duncan?" Tessa looked up in alarm t the grim look on her lover's face as he burst into the kitchen.

"There're here."

"But they can't be. It is not yet time!"

"I guess Vinnie was playing hooky the day they taught telling the time in Kindergarten," Richie observed, even as he stood up. "The storeroom, right?"

"Right." Duncan confirmed, giving him a small smile for his compliance.

It had been decided by the two Immortals, that Richie and Tessa should wait out the conflict in the storeroom, it had the multiple advantages of being in the most inaccessible part of the building, a small window that could not easily be accessed from outside and, most importantly, a lock on the door. Richie had baulked at the plan and had been bound and determined to argue the point until Connor had stepped in with what Duncan assumed were a few quiet words of reassurance.

"Alright," Richie agreed, taking Tessa by one hand, and with his other hand he reaching over to pluck a large bladed knife out of the block on the kitchen counter. He hefted it lightly in his hand.

"Richie!" Tessa exclaimed, shocked.

"Insurance," Richie replied shortly, tucking it into his jacket, before turning questioning eyes to the Highlander. "Um. Is it OK?"

Duncan gave him a searching look, but nodded, apparently satisfied with what he saw.

"Aye. Good thinking."

"Duncan!" Tessa hissed, as they made their way quickly upstairs.

"Its hardly the Katana," Duncan murmured. "Besides, you'll be safe enough up here. Let the lad have his reassurance."

"Perhaps those boxing lessons were not such a bad idea, after all." Tessa sighed, as they entered the storeroom.

"Right, you both know what to do?"

"Wait, let me see if I have all the details, _exactly_ correct," Richie said. "We sit here and wait until our brains leak outta our ears with sheer boredom? While you and Sir Lancalot run around doing all the macho stuff? "

"You got it," Duncan tousled his hair. "Look after .. " he paused. "each other." No one could say Duncan Macleod didn't learn from experience. "I'll be back soon. Don't open this door to anyone but me or Connor."

"Duncan, be careful." Tessa touched his arm.

Duncan gave her a quick kiss and flashed a conspiratorial grin at Richie. "Always am, sweetheart. Always am."

!!!

"Surely, something should have happened by now?" Tessa demanded, as she stalked across the floor. The few muffled sounds they had heard had died down into silence. But no-one had come to fetch them. "How much longer is this going to take?"

"As long as it takes, I guess." Richie shrugged, climbing up onto a crate to peer out of the small window.

"You've been very quiet."

"I'm fine." Richie looked away from her. "I just .. don't much like being shut up in places."

"Jail?" Tessa asked gently.

"Jail, Foster Parents, School Detention, you name it .." Richie hopped off the box and sat down, only to spring back up again, obviously struggling to settle.

"Did I ever tell you about the time I was suspended from school?" Tessa asked.

"You?" Richie grinned at her. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Not at all," Tessa sat down and patted the space beside her, inviting him to join her. "There was a group of us, who always .."

The sudden sharp retort of a gun stunned her into silence. For a moment, they both stared at each other.

"You don't think ..?" Tessa hazarded.

"Right now, I'm trying not to," Richie leapt up and walked over to the door, pressing his ear against it. The muffled shouts and running feet he heard did not sound good. "They're coming this way."

"Maybe, if we're really quiet, they will not know there is anything here?"

"Hey guys, there's another door up here!" A voice exclaimed triumphantly. "I bet there's loads more cool stuff inside."

"Or not," Richie decided. Moved over to the far corner of the room, he started moving boxes. "Tess, give me a hand here, will you?"

"Why are we doing this?" Tessa asked, even as she looked up at the emerging wall. "A door? There is a door back here? How did you know this?"

"Just did." Richie dropped to his knees beside the door and felt in his pocket for his lock picks.

"Richie, I have lived here twelve years and I did not know that there was a door back here. Where does it go?"

"To the roof," Richie said, frowning in concentration as he went to work on the lock. "You go across the top, and you can come down via the fire escape."

Behind them the shouts were joined by muffled thumps as the door itself came under attack.

"Can you go any faster?" Tessa flashed a terrified glance over her shoulder.

"Almost there," Richie hissed, between clenched teeth, succeeding in tripping the lock even as Tessa yelped, as part of the main door, splintered inwards. "Alright, go .."

Richie grabbed her arm and pushed her towards the newly revealed exit route..

"Wait. You must come too!"

"No time," Richie managed, as he pushed her towards the door. "Go, get help, find Mac, call the cops, just go .."

Hurriedly, he closed the door behind her and replaced the boxes, just as the main door flew off its hinges and he whirled around, only to come face to face with his enemies.

"Ryan, you little shit," Vinnie was first through the door, waving what looked suspiciously like a gun.. "You set us up!"

"Oh yeah, right," Richie improvised, as he backed away, trying to sound braver than he really felt. "Like I spend all my spare time in this cupboard! Macleod noticed I was gone and he figured I was up to something, so he kicked the shit outta me and locked me in here."

"He did, huh?" a cruel smile spread across Vinnie's face. "Show me the bruises."

_Shit. _Richie berated himself, how many times had Mac told him that if he had to lie, to keep it simple. Why did he have to add that bit?

"Aw, c'mon man, he busted my butt. You don't really wanna look at that, do ya?"

Thankfully for him, Vinnie had other entertainments in mind.

"Tell you what, Slick," Vinnie stepped up and stroked the butt of the gun along Richie's neck. "You tell me where to find the pretty lady and I'll even lock you back in here, so Daddy Warbucks won't be mad when he comes home."

Richie didn't think now was the time to point out that they'd rendered the door pretty much useless.

"She's not here."

"C'mon Slick," Vinnie nodded at his henchman, who produced a pair of knuckle dusters, and a very painful looking jagged edged knife. "You know you're gonna tell us what we want, sooner or later. You might as well make it easy on yourself."

Richie stood his ground, trying to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. Even if he could create enough of a distraction to pull his knife, it wouldn't be much use against a gun. On the other hand, the longer he could hold out the goons torture, the more chance Tess would have to get to safety.

"Go screw yourself, Vinnie."

"Always thought you were smart, Slick. Guess, I was wrong." Vinnie shook his head. "If you won't just tell me where she is, I'm gonna have to make you."

"He doesn't know, where she is." A familiar baritone cut in. "Wanna try me?"

And suddenly, the sick feeling in Richie's stomach just melted away. Because Mac was here and Mac wouldn't let anything happen to him. It was a new feeling, to be able to trust in someone so completely. He liked it. A lot.

"Look, man, my main beef is with the kid here," Vinnie back-pedalled furiously in the face of the clearly far superior threat. "We have a history goin here. I gotta rep to protect. You let me take the little shit and I'll leave the lady be."

"Not bloody likely." Duncan said flatly, his eyes betraying nothing as he saw Richie start to edge his right foot between Vinne's.

"C'mon man, there are four of us and only one of you. Whatcha gonna do?"

"Two." Duncan corrected. "There are two of us."

"Him?" Vinnie laughed. "You're not serious."

"Deadly," Duncan vowed. He took the gamble that Vinnie didn't speak much Polish. "Rich, you OK?"

"I'm fine, Mac." Richie replied in the same language. "Not a scratch."

"What?" Vinnie looked from one to the other in confusion. "Whatcha sayin?"

Duncan ignored him.

"When I say now, you take him out, go down and stay down, alright?"

"Got it."

"What did you tell him?" Vinnie demanded, levelling the gun at Duncan, which was exactly what the Immortal had been hoping for. "You tell me what you said."

Duncan smiled a feral smile, "I told him you were a dickhead."

"Why you .." he started to squeeze the trigger.

"Richie, now!" Duncan commanded. The lad obeyed instantly, using his right foot to pull Vinnie's leg out from under him, and dropping flat to the floor. Caught off balance Vinnie's aim was well wide of the mark, the bullet imbedding itself harmlessly in the wall. In an instant, Duncan stood over him, the Katana levelled at his throat.

"Anyone else want to have a try?" he invited.

The other four gang members all shook their heads and crowded together nervously, as far from the Immortal and his prey as they could get.

"Rich?" Duncan asked, not taking his eyes off Vinnie.

"I'm good, Mac, Richie assured him, lifting himself off the floor and dusting himself down. "Tessa?"

"She's fine. She's calling the Police." He flashed the lad a quick smile that was full of humour. "Apparently, we've been robbed."

Richie laughed, already relaxing in the Immortal's steady presence.

"Duncan?" Connor's voice was followed by his feet thundering up the stairs. "The Police are here."

"Nice of you to join us," Duncan raised a brow his kinsman's bare chest. "You want to take out the trash?"

"My pleasure," Connor smiled thinly, picking up a ball of bailing twine and deftly going around and binding the intruders hands. "But you .. I shot you .." Vinnire spluttered, as Connor seized him by the collar and pulled him to his feet.

"Didn't do a very good job of it, did you?" Connor rebuked him. "Although, you did ruin a perfectly good shirt." He started herding the now subdued captives down the stairs leaving Duncan and Richie alone in the stockroom.

"You sure you're alright?" Duncan stepped up and put a hand on his cheek, feeling the last tremors of adrenalin flowing out of the teen.

"I am now." Richie covered the hand with his own.

"I'm sorry, Rich," Duncan berated himself. "They should never have got this far."

"Hey Mac, you were here when I needed you," He swallowed hard. "That .. that means a whole lot to me."

"Ach, lad," Duncan drew him in a hug, taking his own comfort from the pre-immortal buzz that hummed steadily in the background. "I'll always be there for you. That's what family is."

"Speaking of which?" Richie asked, when Duncan released him. "What the hell happened to Connor?"

"That is another story," Duncan threw an arm around his shoulders and started to guide him out the door. "One best told, over a dram or two of the good stuff."

"Whiskey? Me?" Richie asked.

"Purely medicinal," Duncan assured him. "And besides, after the day you've had, I think you've earnt it my lad."

.


	14. Responsibility

"Alright," Duncan gently pushed Richie down onto the couch, reluctantly relinquishing his hold around the lad's shoulders. "Stay put."

Moving swiftly, he went over and poured out a generous measure of scotch and took it back to the couch, kneeling in front of the teen as he offered the glass.

"Take small sips." He advised.

"Right," Richie complied, coughing a little as the strong spirit burnt its way down his throat, then closed his eyes letting his head loll back. "Oh man."

"Pretty rough, huh?" Duncan commiserated, patting his leg comfortingly.

Richie opened one eye a slit and regarded him thoughtfully.

"You're not looking so hot yourself."

Duncan was touched beyond measure that the lad would worry about him. It was second nature for the Highlander to care for others, but it was rare for those around him to see past the aura of strength and appreciate that he himself was not invincible.

"I'll live." He joked weakly. "But thanks for noticing."

"Anytime." Richie took another sip of the whiskey and then closed his eyes again. "You mind if I go to bed?"

Duncan glanced in surprise at the clock. It was still quite early.

"You sure? I thought we could make some hot chocolate, maybe a couple of bowls of popcorn and crash out on the couch with a few videos?" Truth be told, he was reluctant to let the lad out of his sight, at least until he knew that there would be no new nightmares from this.

"Well, I for one like the sound of that." Tessa came to sit on the back of the sofa.

Richie tipped his head back to look up at her.

"You OK?"

"I'm quite well," She assured him. "I am more worried about you."

"Hey," Richie gave her a cocky smile. "You don't gotta worry about me. I can take care of myself."

"So, you are perfectly fine?"

"Sure."

"So, you are drinking this whiskey, because?"

"Because Mac gave it me." Richie said with sweet reason.

"Really Duncan," She sniffed. "I do not know why you must always give him such a thing."

"Think of it as a family tradition." Duncan told her.

"And what about my family traditions? You could not teach him to appreciate a good French cognac?"

"This is America, Tess. He's not actually supposed to drink."

"And you will explain this to my father, when my nieces and nephews are raised to tell Merlot from Cabernet?"

"Those are wines, right?" Richie piped up.

"Actually, they're grapes," Duncan told him. "But they're used to make different types of wine."

"Maybe you should just leave me at home."

"Absolutely not," Tessa declared. "It is our annual family reunion. You must come."

"If I have to go, you're coming too." Duncan vowed.

"How does that work then?" Richie wanted to know. "I mean, you guys have been together twelve years. They all gotta wonder why you aren't looking any older."

"Its amazing what a good diet and a healthy lifestyle can do." Duncan joked.

"No, I'm serious." Richie insisted.

"It was a lot harder in the old days," Duncan admitted. "Sometimes, there was no choice but to move on and cut all ties. Nowadays there are things you can do. Hair dye, prosthetics. It can all help you look older."

"You mean, like in the movies?" Richie asked.

"Exactly," Tessa smiled. "The last time we visited for my Grandmother's birthday, Duncan put this grey dye on his sideburns, he looked most distinguished."

"Did you use a cane as well?" Richie teased.

"Hey, they don't think I'm that old!" Duncan smiled as his little family ganged up on him. In truth, he was glad of the distraction, it had been a rough few days for them all.

"Duncan, we have a problem." Connor spoke from the doorway.

And clearly it wasn't over yet.

"What now?"

"There's an Officer Powell out front, he wants to talk to the lad."

"Oh great," Richie sagged. "Just friggin great."

"Easy, Rich, he can't prove anything," Duncan advised. His eyes alighted on the whiskey glass that Richie was still holding. "Gimme that."

!!!

"Word on the street is, you got into a fight with Ferria. Made him look bad. That he was out for revenge?" Powell looked up, pencil poised.

"Yeah, right," Richie scoffed. "There's no way I could beat Vinnie."

"You haven't been in a fight?" Powell eyed the cut on his cheek.

"This?" Richie shook his head. "I fell over playing basketball, someone had left this glass all over the playground. You know, you people really should do something about that. I mean, I was lucky, I could have lost an eye. I'm thinking of suing."

"Don't you get smart, with me, Ryan, I know a knife cut, when I see one."

"Officer Powell," Duncan cut in. "Is there a point to any of this?"

"Ferria is saying it was all a set up, that Ryan here met them at the playground over on fourth, gave them the low down, told him the alarm codes. Everything."

"Richie's been here all evening."

"You quite sure about that?" Powell challenged. "He has a reputation as a pretty slippery customer. He's just as good at breaking out of places, as he is breaking in. He once absconded from an apartment block over on Vine and his foster parents were none the wiser, till he came home in a Police car. Isn't that right, _Slick?_" Powell mocked.

"They locked me in my room," Richie scowled at him. "I needed to go to the bathroom."

"You were on the sixth floor and there was no fire escape outside your window."

"I needed to go real bad."

"Richie has been here all evening," Duncan repeated. "My cousin, Russell, came from New York for a visit, we had a family dinner and watched some TV."

"Oh yeah?" Powell looked around the living room, but failed to stop the TV, hidden as it was behind the walnut cabinet. "What was on?"

Without missing a beat, Richie rattled off that evening's TV schedule, right up to the moment the gang broke in.

"You need some more hobbies." Duncan murmured, sotto voice, as Powell was busy writing down his answers.

"You gonna teach me how to use a sword?"

"No. But how about we head down to the gym tomorrow, and I'll teach you some of the finer points of the ancient art of boxing?"

"Like you're ever gonna get Tess to agree to that."

"She already has." Duncan grinned tightly at Richie's look of surprise.

"Alright," Powell looked up from his notebook. "Don't leave town Ryan. I'm not done with you yet."

"I'll see you out." Duncan said.

Powell gave him a searching look.

"Ferria says you took him down with a sword, Mr Macleod?"

"New acquisition," Duncan shrugged. "My cousin is also in the Antiques business, I just happened to be showing him the blade when the gang broke in."

"That was very convenient."

"Hey," Richie sprang to his defence. "Mac's a good guy. The best."

Powell regarded him steadily for a moment. But when he spoke it was to Duncan.

"You know, Mr Macleod, I've never really understood why you wanted to take Ryan in. But if you think that a roof over his head and a few square meals are enough to transform him into a model citizen, I strongly suggest you think again. These street kids are all alike. Isn't one of them who wouldn't sell there own Grandmother if the price was right."

Duncan pressed his lips together tightly, even as he stepped forward and put a comforting, and restraining, hand on Richie's shoulder.

"Richie's a good kid."

"We'll see. I can see myself out."

!!!

"Finally," Connor groused as he came into the living room. "I thought the police were never going to leave."

"And after you parcelled the thieves up so neatly for them." Duncan said with a lightness he did not feel.

Richie was sitting with his muddy trainers up on the polished surface of the coffee table, his face set in a mutinous scowl, as if he was goading Duncan to bawl him out for it. His whole posture was stiff and tense. He hadn't spoken a word for the last fifteen minutes. _Damn _Powell.

"Well, I wasn't going to take the chance that one of them would shoot me, again." Connor commented sourly, as he helped himself to a drink.

"Caught you off guard, did they?" He couldn't resist teasing his teacher.

"One of them thought it would be fine sport to let off a shot in Tessa's workshop. If those butane gas canisters had gone up, you've had more than a new window to worry about, laddie."

"Ah," Duncan realised. "I owe you my thanks then."

"And a new shirt."

"Did you get all your blood stains out of my floor?" Duncan contered.

"I'll give you blood stains," Connor groused, as he took a long swallow of his drink. "What ails the lad?"

"Powell gave him a pretty hard time," Duncan sighed. "He thinks he can link him to the robbery."

"Thinks?" Richie surged to his feet. "C'mon Mac. He knows. He's not gonna let this go."

"Give him a day or two. He'll soon have more important things to worry about." Duncan soothed.

"Nuh uh. You know how much he hates me. He's gonna keep on at this until he's got enough evidence to prove that I was in on it."

"C'mon, Rich. All he has is Vinnie's word, against yours. No court as going to accept his own gang as independent witnesses."

"But you think they're gonna take my word?" Richie scoffed. "Against Powell's?"

"It won't come to that."

"What if someone saw us? Like at the playground?"

"They didn't. I was careful. And Connor and Tess and I will all swear blind that you were here all night."

"Doesn't change anything though, does it?" Richie said bitterly. "He still thinks I'm the kind of scum who would sell out his friends to save his own skin. Just like Vinnie. It wasn't like it was hard to persuade him that I'd set you guys up in return for getting myself off the hook."

"Hey," Duncan caught him by the arm and turned him to face him. "That's not who you are. And you know it"

"Do I?" Richie looked up at him.

"You should." Connor murmured.

"Huh?" Duncan and Richie both looked at him.

Connor went to stand in front of Richie.

"Do you remember what I told you would happen, if you did anything foolish tonight and caused Duncan to worry?"

Richie stiffened slightly, as if he had indeed, forgotten, but then he met Connor's eyes defiantly. "Yeah. Like in Technicolor."

"Well?" Connor crossed his arms and raised a brow.

He blushed at being made to say it, two bright pink spots appearing in his cheeks, but he spoke up bravely.

"You said, if I insisted on acting like a kid, you'd treat me like one and I wouldn't sit down for a week."

"Now hold on a minute, Connor!" Duncan protested.

His kinsman ignored him and looked at Richie.

"Maybe, you thought that Duncan here, would talk me out of giving you a well deserved hiding? The way I hear it, you had your chance to escape when Tessa did, and you dinna take it. You deliberately stayed behind."

"If I'd have gone with Tess, they would have seen the doorway, right off and come after both of us," Richie defended himself. "At least, this way, I had a chance to hide it behind her and one of us, had a real chance to get away."

"So, you knew it was dangerous?" Connor clarified. "And you knew that there would be consequences?"

"Yeah," Richie shot back. "And you know what? I don't care what you do to me, I'd still do it all over again to get Tess out safely."

"Doesn't sound like someone who would sell out their friends to me." Duncan murmured, with sudden understanding.

"You .. what .. Connor!" Richie spluttered.

"What?" Connor flashed him a devilish grin. "If I'd just told you Powell was being an ass, you'd never have believed me."

"So," Richie looked from one to the other in confusion. "Am I in trouble, or not?"

"No laddie," Connor assured him. "What you did was very smart and very brave. And I owe you an apology."

"You do?"

"I was afraid you'd be too rash. I was wrong. You did us proud tonight, laddie."

"That's been happening a lot recently." Duncan murmured.

"Does that mean I'm not gonna get grounded anymore?" Richie grinned.

!!!

"Hey, Rich?," Duncan knocked lightly, before popping his head around the bedroom door. "Are you asleep?"

"Naw," Richie used the remote control to flick off the television. "I guess, I'm still pretty wired."

"I could make you some hot milk?"

"Hey, I thought I wasn't being punished anymore!"

"How about a story?" Duncan offered, settling himself on the bed.

"I'm a little old don't ya think?."

"Alright, then you can tell me one. How exactly did you know about that door?"

"Its just a door, Mac. What's to know?"

"A locked door, up in the attic, that's been covered with boxes for the last decade."

"So, I went looking," Richie admitted. "Look, it wasn't you. Or anything you've done. You heard what Powell said. I never knew a place that didn't have an escape route or three. I just like to know where they are. That's all."

"How did you get out of that apartment block?"

"The brickwork was pretty old. It made for plenty of hand and foot holds."

"You climbed down six stories?" Duncan didn't know whether to be awed at his bravely or appalled at his bravado. With such unsound brickwork the lad could have slipped and fallen at any time. It didn't bear thinking about. Maybe he should add climbing to Richie's new list of hobbies. If he was going to do it, Duncan wanted to be sure he was doing it right.

"Mac," Richie asked into the silence. "What will happen to Vinnie and the others now?"

"Prison, I expect. They all had priors."

"Oh." Richie said flatly.

"Don't worry about it, Tough Guy. You're not responsible for the choices they make. And the next people that Vinnie pointed his gun at might not have been so lucky. Remember that."

"I guess," Richie said, unhappily. "Its just, its not like my own choices have always been so good. You know?"

"Talking of which, it didn't occur to you to mention your little tete a tete with Connor to me??"

"I thought you knew. You were standing right there."

"I thought he was being reassuring. You dinna really think I'd let him lay a hand on you, did you?"

"Its not like he's some stranger," Richie hedged. "I mean, he's family. And you always do what he says."

"Richie .." Duncan scrubbed at his face. "Tessa was right, you do need to know where we stand."

Standing up he pulled a cream coloured envelope out of his pocket and offered it to Richie. Feeling a sudden tightness in his chest, Richie reached out to take it. Only to have the Immortal turn and start to walk towards the door.

"Mac, hold on," Richie waited until the Immortal was facing him. "Don't you need to know where we stand too?"

Duncan hitched one shoulder in an awkward shrug.

"I didn't want to make you feel .. awkward .. embarrassed."

"C'mon Mac," Richie grinned. "Connor threatening to spank me. That was embarrassing. This, .. this is .. pretty great."

Duncan gave him an appraising look.

"You haven't even opened it yet."

"So, you can be Immortal, but I can't have X-Ray eyes?" Richie teased.

"Tessa." Duncan realised.

The card was simple enough, a pencil sketch of a basketball player. All lines and movement. But it was the legend across the top that took Richie's breath away. _"To the best son in the world."_ Inside in Duncan's flowing hand, was written, "_A Father's Love - When you are hungry, I will feed you, when you are cold, I will warm you, when you are sick I will tend to you, when you are sad, I will comfort you, when you are happy, I will share in your joys, when you succeed, I will celebrate your endeavours, when you fail, I will encourage you, when you need guidance I will teach you, when you err, I will forgive you, and when you call, I will hear you. For you are my world." _Underneath he had written. "_Love always Da."_

"Oh," Richie felt the tears burn behind his eyes and he blinked hard. This was stupid. He was happy, he wasn't gonna cry.

"You're supposed to like it." Suddenly Duncan was sitting beside him again, using his thumb to wipe away a single escaping tear.

"No-one ever .." Richie swallowed hard and reached out to hug Duncan hard, letting the spontaneous display of affection say all the things he could not yet put into words.

"First of many." Duncan assured, him patting his back comfortingly.

"Thanks," Richie pulled back, slightly self conciously.

"You're welcome."

Without another word, Richie carefully tucked the card back into its envelope. Duncan felt a stab of bitter disappointment. Maybe it was just too much, after all. Until he realised that the lad had slipped the card under his pillow so it would be close by as he slept.

"Thanks, for today," Richie hesitant voice spoke up. "With Vinnie. When you turned up, I don't think I've ever been so glad to see anyone in my whole life I just knew everything would be alright. I knew you wouldn't let anything bad happen to me. "

"I couldn't have done it without you."

"We make a great team, huh?" Richie smiled.

"Yeah, we do," Duncan tousled his hair. "You think you can sleep now?"

"Yeah." Richie scooted down.

"Remember, we're just down the hall if you need us?"

"You gonna leave me a night light on too?" Richie joked.

Duncan grinned back. He would never offend the lad's dignity like that. Especially, when leaving the hall light on and the door slightly ajar worked just as well.

"Night, Rich." Duncan dropped a light kiss on his forehead.

"G'night, Mac."

He walked over to the door and put his hand on the light switch.

"Oh and Rich," he waited until the teenager looked up. "One day, I swear, I'll teach you to be as good with a sword, as I am."

The look on Richie's face was priceless.

"You really mean that?"

"Aye lad. With all my heart."


End file.
